B#7

we grew together like roots entwined
from different trees that grew at different times,
our gnarly sides worn bare by passing traffic
and stripped joints flayed open for display —
our well-woven tapestry of love and pain
hung on the bitterness of a thrashing star
that crashed into our seas and divided us.
i need to know if that mosaic was worth it
to form the mural of us that grow like trees
down the wiry path from despair to joy,
if you have to brave the dark and cold
of night to feel summer’s sweet kiss.
i am not an oak, i am a willow
and you are something fair like cherry,
but we have learned to nurture
from the soil and seek out the sky.
we share our hurt and share our cries
and try to discover the you and i.

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