Epigenetics of the Mind
By Saba Zahoor

Speedwells erupt beneath my feet

as I walk away from broken pitchers,

a once promising tree—

shedding responsibility

like a moult.

Things have brushed past me,

left chemical fingerprints that

trace the contours of my hand

with quiet insistence.

I have given in like mire

to the dark urgencies of night,

responded in epigenetic marks

to each word sharpened like a pencil.

I have inherited the wealth of my ancestors

and squandered it in enzymes of gluttony,

their wisdom too heavy

to carry.

Before I am silenced by methyl–

the quiet architect of my unease,

I leave behind

my childhood cat, still playing

with the spools of my histones.