Rock, Paper, Scissors
The thrill of granite
Is just so much fucking weight
The hug of a winter blanket
Sometimes, it’s perfectly grand
To dig my toes into porous sand
To bury my roots in pounded quartz
While upright, eyes absorbing the sun
Other times —
Igneous rock, blocking my heart up
Filling my lungs up, filling my vision
Filling my every artery
Enveloping me, like a winter blanket
Is it okay?
To skim your skin until it fits
To lie beneath, to breathe, to be
A part the heart of the mountain?
Perhaps if I am forever still.
Inspired by Jules