II: Holly Tree

Under the holly tree

bough of berries,

a siren red

temptation.

Where life began

on skinny knees

retching out

my guts.

Waxy saw-tooth skin,

prickly leaves,

the sickly buds

of poison seeds.

The tangy tongue

of Christmas

funerary rites.

I spewed

through chrysalis,

entrails slick

with acid grease,

thickly dripping

afterbirth.

Gazed upon by

ageless tree,

received in holy

communion, my first

memory:

The pluming rack

of tight blue

veins

that hung about

my neck.

The womb of black

that forked

the branching

Earth.

The world that hid

in bitter leaves

and pushed me

into it.

I made a wreath

of holly limbs

to prick my head

with thoughts.

I keep its berries

bright as death

and touch the skin

that baptized

me.

• June 2025

Submission History

Date	Publication	Status
June 27, 2025	The Anglican Theological Review	Pending
July 01, 2025	New Feathers Anthology	Pending
July 02, 2025	January House Literary Journal	Rejected
July 02, 2025	Mangrove Review	Pending
July 03, 2025	Cypress Review	Pending