We are the ocean tapeweed, the creosote plant, the quaking aspen who lived alone for so long, longed for love so much it copied itself, over and over to infinity. Got so big and so old we forgot our separate fruits were from the same tree. Our fruits and leaves dropped off, died, forgot. But our roots never did. Pulling on each other, even now, in the midst of the great dying. If we dug a little deeper, a little wider. Trembling together, even now, even now.
Note: Pando is the name of a clonal colony of one quaking aspen tree living in Utah. It’s ~80K years old.