Two Objects Fall in Love

He walks by them every day
And they silently reach for him
Their twigs, red, strain to touch him
Their branches, yellow, pining for him
Soft lines grasping upwards
Swishing, stiff tendrils; naked, waving;
His shining face reflects his owner
His sleek hard body reflects his lovers
He doesn’t know, keys clacking softly
Fans cooling him, he can’t remember,
Even with access to the whole world,
That they wait, planted in the soil
Yearning for him
Wanting him
Missing him
Growing.