TOM NUTTING

Rhizome lovers

        I said nothing

                        but you creeped closer

   threadlike        not a word

                          touch translated into spore

   you were never         entirely  

               above ground

     my breath  

              filtered through  

                             cambium

               you whispered light

      I interpreted invitation

                  not yes     

                           not no  

              but a slow exchange of carbon

                              for pale survival 

    one body     sheltering

                    the hunger of another

      I sent  

                    salt

              you returned  

                              starch

   the rhythm

              was not mutual

                         but shared

we grew

        not side by side

                          but through

          I do not know  

                if I became you  

                             or you me  

        only –

                          we were never separate

                 even before

                             we touched