grow and stretch your roots into
my body, given free.
let me water the
of a broken creature.
barking up solemn nights;
the wind blows cold, knowing that
your body sways with expectations,
of a mind lush with anticipation.
the axe falls to the root
but not through your heart.
plant your seed again in my soil.
let me see every ring broken,
i am tended,
having been excavated;
i know what it feels like to be emptied,
unsure of where to quench my thirst again –
water is free,
and so is my heart.