Twisted and tangled and tied up in knots,

Growing less and less separable,
As two trees planted just close enough to knot and gnarl and conjoin with time.
 
I lay to rest like smoke in spring showers,
Coiling and sinking ever slowly with imagined weight;
Serpentine and deliberate,
As loveladen hands kneading flesh like warm clay.
Awaiting and aflamed,
Eager as a candle with wicks on either end.
Sometimes we smile like a hall of mirrors turned backwards,
Other times we face forward,
In fascimile of a fearsome yawning infinity,
Knowing the stars betwixt are more anchor than barrier.