I know of a tree that is not one,
But two seeds intertwined --
Roots rolling, truck twisted,
Two leaves growing on the same branch.

I know of two bodies
Tangled in a small bed --
Soft snoring, nipped necks,
His strong arms holding her against him.

I know of a ruby rose,
Swaying in the late summer rain --
Placid petals, tough thorns,
She doesn't mind, she kind of likes it.

I know of his lips
On the back of her neck --
Petty pecks, ***** bites,
His breath caught in her gasping lungs.

I know of a single rock
Split true down the middle --
Jagged joints, scraping sides,
Pressing together, but never close enough.

I know of her open palm
On his barren chest --
Tracing touches, grazing glances,
Morning sun scattering through the quiet room.

I know of the sun and the moon,
The stars and the dawn --
Shining summer, frosting fall,
But most of all, I know the sound of a breaking heart.