Mammal

With the coming of Spring
I unfurl my layers like a fern
and unbuckle my boots.

The death of Winter is buried
beneath its own broken cells
and from turgid soil a new life breaks,
heady and enveloping.

I want to curl in on myself
again and again,
return to blastocystic stages
where my eyes glowed out
in to an endless pink abyss
and where I did not find my solace
under a grey canopy
of reversed snow
because I had no solace at all.

I do not seek warmth
like a lizard
because my heat is in every
vein and pore.

Warm-blooded.