The leaves rustle

with each breath of wind,

making their entangled limbs

moan and groan

each soft leaf rubbing

the tough hide of the other tree,

searching out the crevices

for the most tender spaces

tree trunks rubbed

and being rubbed,

moaning, groaning

as the limbs shift,

hopelessly looped

one limb inseparable

from another

so neither knows

whose limb belongs to whom,

or even caring

learning to lean against each other

suffering the same aching together

each easing the otherís pain

through long years of intimacy,

casting off their cloaks

in season,

but never each other.

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