Aurora Uteralis blurs the lines between the plant and the body as poems deliberate on sexuality, autonomy, and the different facets of emotional intimacy we carry. The poems simultaneously live within the world of the body, not shying away from raw imagery of stretch marks and vaginal fluid, while bridging this inner world to one of shriveled sage plants, clamshells, and cockroaches. Unexpected pairings of body and nature ask us to look more closely at ourselves through the growth, decay, and dirt of life around us. From neurons and maple leaves to electrocardiograms and lightning, these poems are intensely personal as they discover how the body is seen, loved, and grieved through our environments.