an ocean of stone

we are not the sea, seething, cold,
     drinking homes and spitting
     dust, wet, cohesive
we are sediment, layered on the hands
     of our ancestors, who faces turned,
     saw the stars drop behind mute eyelids,
     bathed in lightning and fallout,
     drank the night
we are the foundations of the Earth, lightly
     balanced on the foundations of the sun and stars</blockquote>
we sleep, warm and rough beneath breathing
     life and birth through quietus, stomach rumbling
     with dreams of food and history
we grasp the mountains in our teeth and
     straining against the whispers of Elijah, we
     pull them down, swallowing them,
     percolating their essence through porous skin
we are the thrumming seat of this city, our
     bones are steel, our breast protects from
     carcinogenic lightshows while festering the
     tumors within
we inhale the sky and our lungs are bellows,
     automatic, feeding the flames that consume
     our blood, viscous and oily, hydrophobic, seeping
     from tear ducts and flesh wounds
we vomit our souls, burning and bright, and
     our children burst from our lips,
     recycled, molten and new, unborn potential
     airborne, waterborne, sliding across skin,
     into crowsfeet, down rivers
we stop, solidify, sharp and black, permeable
     and holy as the night before the return of
     the prodigal son, crystalline we are beautiful
     but useless
we march, stand, sit, flawed and naked
     under the lenses of actors and demigods,
     writhing and helical
we are an ocean of stone
     immutable, dynamic
     paradoxical
we are the lattice of man