i wrote one poem about you
and the rest has been free-flowing prose
words like
future, and
comfort
drip from my lips like tree sap

i bloom in the spring
branches untangling
those ugly mangled masses
that we pruned together

it is not pretty growth
pushing through the dirt and sometimes
wilting in the rain and sun
the same things that make us strong

i learn the value of cultivation
the importance of hacking away at
that which promises to choke us
the aches and pains of taking root