Tree-Ache (unfinished)

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 Tree-ache.


These two bend toward each other

then split. Their parts never meet.

Not at the root, not at the feet.


Limb to limb, they remain just out of reach. 

But they bend toward each other,

two adams apples that almost kiss.


I could love you if this one whispers.

I could do that if that one pines.


What is it between them? 

Race? Politics? Would-be 

in laws? The number 3?


I could do that if that one whispers.

I could love you if this one pines.


Air. Air builds narrows like these.

Come on, we all know Air’s 

greatest pleasure…


to rush

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