It's been a while since I've read one of your poems. This is a bit shorter than most of your other works, but that doesn't affect the beauty of it in the least. The imagery is gorgeous and slightly painful; your words create pictures in my head of being cut open and something unknown and foriegn forced into the wounds - but at the same time I see the loveliness of something growing and becoming itself. The last line comes up a bit short, but it almost seems like it was meant to; to convey the quick cutoff that death brings to life. Superb poem, as always. Keep up the great work!

i think i'm confused in a good way.

Shasta Valentine

It seems to be much shorter and simpler than your usual poetry but just as effective. The image of planting seeds in open wounds and them growing I can see. Blood is our life, and I think it's powerful imagery to imagine it giving life to the seeds planted in it. Even if they aren't literal seeds but rather like you said seeds of something other than distress.

how touching... by the way, did you mean "Will thrive..." in the second last line?