Sometimes I wonder about you.
Do you ever see me;
the way my arms hug my body,
clinging onto the skin and the bones
as if you could take them at any moment.

But how could you take more of me
when I’ve felt the vacant Garden’s soil
ache for seeds.
The roots pulled out and and the pedals plucked.
All at once, and then nothing,
only silence.
Empty’s echo ringing through and within

I have rebuilt,
planted and nurtured.
With water and sun they grew
and their roots of ambition
reached deeper than ever,
into the Earth as if racing to see
what the other side of the Earth may look like

Yet with every look I fear your eyes will meet mine
again and my Garden is
wilted.