Weeds of love

Dreams,
I never had many.
And the few that I had, got
scattered at the feet of the
fence on which we sat.
When they grew taller,
they spread their tentacles
and embraced us to survive,
just as the parasites would do
in the name of love.
Soon, as the years went by,
the world was covered by
weeds, and no one remembered
that under those dark green
layers, there used to be a sunrise,
which played hide and seek
with the full moon night.