They were left out during the transplant.
A whitish, fleshy tangle
like something a little obscene.
I thought of transformations,
of lost galaxies, of intestines.
Then, when they scratched me, only
of what you would say.
We took fresh dirt,
I set the roots carefully
and we added more soil.
All the surrounding space
seemed to expand and adjust.
I envied them in silence
because they were starting something.