Beautiful blooms blossoming, stretching their arms awake, squeezing stems, shivering leaves coming alive inside of me. Pale flowers against bright green swaying with my self, yawning before wilting into nap-sleep. My body grows the Garden of Eden. Flowers and fruit, and leaves and twigs, nectars and pollens fill my stomach. Trunks grow strong in my legs, roots buried sturdy in my feet. Branches wrapping around my ribs, protecting my fragile fruit heart. My heart has been touched but not defiled. A bite you took held seeds, and now my garden grows in you.