I want to be moss soft silent springy underfoot. Cover- ing the rocky crumble.
Want to absorb like moss holding twenty times my weight, toxins contained, never to be released.
Don’t sit here, my daughter says. You annoy me, she says I wonder where she learned that word. Don’t talk to Mommy that way, I say. She sinks her teeth into my belly.
I want to insulate like moss, Grow quickly over crevices. Seal my home seal my orifices.
Do you know why you annoy me? she asks Because you angry. I angry. Like moss, I want to dress wounds. Ward off infection. You’re sad, I say. She kicks my face. I want you to hold me.
I want to be moss. Want to sink down and cup the rain, make a pool of my face, want to drink, regenerate turn bright as new leaftips at the edge of a tree.
Batnadiv HaKarmi is a writer and visual artist who currently resides in Jerusalem. Her work has been published in Poet Lore, Belmont Story Review, and is upcoming in Cumberland River Review. A graduate of the graduate writing program in Bar Ilan University, she is the recipient of the Andrea Moria Prize for Poetry, and was shortlisted for the Brideport Prize. Her work can be followed on www.batnadiv.com and on Instagram @batnadiv_art.