There were vines up her skin
slender mossy streams that breathed life into her veins
eyes brown like that dried up mud-
sticky surfaces that
burrow you into the Earth
Those branches
latch and tangle
entwine around the crevices of her heart
She had leafy shells in her hair
Strands that stuck up like Medusa
a receptacle of venom that could have
turned Perseus himself to stone
Éloa 
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