My affection is not like a shelf.
It
cannot be stress-tested for load bearing
and it
cannot be so quickly assembled
as
a Walmart kit with too few screws
or carefully
carved to detail
with
even the most dexterous hands.
My affection is like a garden.
A sharp
spark of life burst forth from the
infinitely
impossible circumstances rooted
in
time and space
hinging
on a unique complex of chemicals
in
that fertile hivemind.
Like the fruits of a garden
its possibilities
are limitless
but
better to use before end of shelf life.
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