I like when Elizabeth Barrett browning says something like, "i think of thee, my thoughts do twine about thee like a vine...Shake off these vines like a strong tree should/I do not think of thee/ I am too near thee."
Elizabeth when we were together your trunk was bare to me. Now the thicket is thick. Rarely, a woman, or a man, like a bird in a barren ecosystem breaks through with a song, a flash in the eye, a weight in the weightless air, then vanishes. Dry vines in my mouth green leaves in my eyes.

Rarely a man a woman some body breaks through for a moment like a rare bird
touches down
a branch
then leaves

Elizabeth you sang to me like flocks of birds fed and nesting 
land
in green
leaves