The bodies of grasshoppers mold, replenish, wings sprout full, finally, before death. Dormant like unripe cashews in thin shells, peeling. Meek mouths open, close. Whispering through thatches.
Bodies grow supple with want, aware of time.
Flit through strands, calling for lovers, now . Knees bend back, full wings flap, gently, against cool leaves. Peer through lined days to find eyes.