Uprooted

It feels as if my body is preparing itself for her arrival. Organs are being shifted to fit hers in the empty spaces. Bones are bending to make room for her joints. Limbs are thickening to hold up her own, like branches of a tree. I’m uprooting, so the crown of my head can reach the soles of her feet, so that she may stand upon my woody shoulders and slide herself in between the cracks and fissures of my bark, settling herself into my trunk. My body, a tree, is preparing itself for her arrival - an invasive species that of which I cannot deny.