Potted Love

I potted my love
In this pot
This pot is mine

I potted my plant;
Tore it by the roots
Yanked the clinging tendrils
From the jungle
And placed it in this pot.
My pot.

And so I thought
Foolishly.
This potted plant.
This love.
Is mine.
I pulled it out
And now,
It is here.
And mine.

Upheaval and possession.
Destruction and possession.
Violence and love.
Inseparable, no?

The possessed potted plant,
however.
Succumbed not
To the watery pleasures I offered.

And chose instead
to gaze at the sun
the stars
and sun

And when the stars too
fell asleep
My potted and bottled love
Secretly dug its roots
deep into the very soul of this earth

Where it could gently nudge
Kiss and embrace
The roots
of its jungli loves and lovers