The landscape is a forest
of tenuous brown fibers
rooted in the wood.

Rangy rivers branch out
from the woodland, down
the handle, to his hand.

Matted around the trees
in rings, his hairs and hers 
entangle and strangle them.

He finds it easier to dispose of 
the brush than cut his way
through the understory.

The forest catches fire 
with the letters they wrote
and the photos they took.