Barky trees, crescent moon, frosty bitterness 

Good deep soil takes aches away

Rooted in this place 

Others, under the same crescent moon

Drink in stony places

Bitter frosting us both

Bark, long and dark 

I’ll never meet them

Not now or soon or ever no matter how I swoon

My flowers bloom for them as much

Grow up, from this frosty days

Into the misty spring

My bark, bark grows ever mossy

Moons pass

And the frost comes and I wounder if my rock biting lovers 

Are doing as well again?

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