myrtle

These days I start to feel like my body is some kind of manure with big fat maggot worms weaving home-tunnels all through it. I keep compost in the back, to feed my garden, and when i put too much rotten fruit into it the flies come and lay their chubby grub babies in the rot. This summer it was almost more maggot than soil and the baby and I spent every morning going out to gaze at the amassment of writhing bodies. Most of them died. Probably suffocated in the heat of the covered compost, and I worked their bodies back into the soil. For my winter veggies I mixed the compost with water and spread it like a paste on top. The spinach is growing in a pretty vibrant way, and when I go to water and weed and touch the leaves I can see pieces of the fly babies all brown in the mud. It's interesting the way it all works.

Lately, when I look at pictures, it's hard to recognize me. Even harder, when I look at pictures of someone else I really wonder if the picture is actually myself, and if I have inhabited different bodies.
And if I occupy different souls.
And if I exist outside of mommy, next to baby, making sure daily that he won't run outside without his breeches on.