Two plants
Raised in different gardens
Roots ever-growing
Blindly following the path nature bore for them
Until one day,
By the will of fate,
The two roots touched.
And what a glorious union that was!
The ground buzzed with their touch
Their connection
Their love.
Made of the same mud,
They grew together,
Holding hands in the earth,
Feeding on the sunlight
One passed to another.
But no one above-ground was privy to the happenings below.
All they saw were
Two plants,
Raised in different gardens,
Roots ever-growing
Blindly following the path nature bore for them.
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"...but I believe errors, especially written errors, are often the only markers left by a solitary life: to sacrifice them is to lose the angles of personality, the riddle of a soul."
-Mark Z. Danielewski
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