You are ingrained in me.
If someone tried to pry us apart
it would be like pulling at a plant,
tugging hard until the base of the roots
pops out and still the earth won’t release her hold.
The vines keep coming in knots
until you’re forced to dig them up too
because they refuse to be separated.

We are tangled. Not two
halves of a whole or pieces of a part,
but sibling roots twisted like lovers’ limbs,
wholly separate but very much
twined together to be something else entirely.

I’m not saying I wouldn’t go on and move forward,
but if you were gone from me
I would be less.
The days would dim
and the moon wouldn’t be something
I held my breath for anymore.
I would be less.