One Hundred and Twenty Seven

I am organic. If you were to cut me open right this moment, I would bleed green spiders and patchy brown worms. But I wouldn’t bleed to death. I’d recycle some older skin from behind my ears and maybe behind my knees, too, in order to cover the gash. Then I would go about my business as my body healed itself within every ounce of earth between my hair and my toenails.