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New Leaves
- Red Hen Press
- Chapter
- Additional Information
90 New Leaves The rubber plant is making leaves, two twin blades, one off the stem forms a small ear, nearly indistinguishable, pale green— the other hangs, slanted, scrolls on itself, curled like some sort of unshaped green insect, veined and pellucid wings of a larva mantis. A brown, dried, umbilical string detaches itself inside, cat gut stitched, shrivelled forlorn crown of prepuce, fallen circumcision from the pith. The nascent leave is delicate, soft in my hand, pellucid green, tendrilling a life of its own. I wipe it off, gently, furling genitalia, unsheathed, light unopened to the light greening shoot offering its slim head up, a fluted membrane that will spread to a full palmed leave. ...