And if they tried
to match the whirl
of my fingerprint,
they’d learn my true
identity is galaxy,
close cousin to the fern,
and sister to the nautilus.
They’d learn I’m most definitely
guilty of Fibonacci.
I leave evidence
everywhere—tiny
invisible swirls,
reminders that I,
too, am hurricane,
eddy, whirlpool,
and sunflower head.
I have been marked
like the pinecone,
spiraling out from the center,
and there’s nothing
I won’t touch.