The conjoined trunks of trees remind me of being a lover

“Lovers”

I just found a hickory and a maple,
trunks grown together,

conjoined as lovers at their hips,
tension free from their backs 

while the hands of their roots 
clutch their subterranean buttocks 

for decades of loamy passion.
For centuries they have thrived while

performing the rites of the living.
I see them, old beings 

beaming their smiles at the sun,
inviting autumn’s must after months 

of bringing elements to life.
Here, I remember the taste of your mouth.

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