My happiness is not an object
You can not rob it

Your love is like a caged bird
Beautiful when standing outside looking in
But imprisoning when you are the bird

Like bits of broken chocolate,
lying on the floor,
I noticed your existence,
nothing more,
until melting on my feet,
sticking to my soul,
you touched me

So there I was
                          Sitting on the couch  ...

I say I am you
tree
roots and limbs and bark

I say I feed you as you feed me oxygen
we need each
to be

My roots are not covered
and I am not near as tall or robust
my canopy never will attain the beauty

nor hold leaves and seeds
into the sun like you
And then

I ask the tree,
who might you be?
He stands as he always has,

says, I am but a tree,
I bow and say amen.