i gathered the last of the henbane seeds. i’ve been letting them dry on their own this year, still attached to the plant, collecting when they announce they’re ready. they look like skeletal nodes along a spine and it makes me hyperaware of the shape of my own. 

i’ve been fleshing out a map of my body’s bones. you’d think i wouldn’t need to do this. that everyone’s skeleton is more or less the same. but after we discovered that my rib cage is slightly turned in physical therapy, i’ve taken note of every discrepancy. all the asymmetrical parts. i’ve spent so much time focused on my connective tissue, what is between the bones, to actually think about the way the bones themselves sit. if it’s not subluxed or dislocated, i haven’t been paying attention. 

holding the paper white, brittle henbane pods lined up in a curved row made me wonder if anyone had ever used these as a divining rod for spine ailments. like a marker for a slipped disc or fracture, an irregular bloom. tool or not, their frailty does a good enough job reminding us of the fragility of our own structure. maybe that’s all we need to pinpoint the problem ourselves.