Pothos uses the sun

As water & lets her body drape, fluently.

She’s funny that way — Always

On the hunt for the perfect cloud

To float atop. As though a cloud

Could draw a breath here. As though

Joy would waft down for her alone.

Jade, on the other hand, hates to be wet.

Hates to be lonely too. She watches

Pothos swallow the yellow droplets

Whole. Watches as they fall: throat

To cavern. Dust to death.

Pothos doesn't worry

About that. Pothos Basks.