My Lust for Marriage

A tiring effort
The energy of nearly grasping intimacy
It’s physical, viceral
A depleting sort of aching
It’s a racing of the pulse
A quickened breathe
A steep incline
And then a muscle tearing
From within

And this great tremor toward connecting
Towarding grounding and rooting yourself in the planet
By burying the marrow of trees
In another’s vines
Can crush and collapse upon itself
In the emptiness of

All the while the galaxy turns
The families grow
The forest of beings tower

I see the Sequoias
I see the years that predated me
I see the strength in those round telling histories of life
I see timber
And I grow wary

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