Salt lick quartz, a long translucent sip of mountain, I am
speechless in your crags. A mile away I
know the sea is roaring. The rain
attacks me even here.
Little hails of ice melt into your peaks and
shimmy down your slides. My mouth
tastes of oranges and strange white
powders. Too many teeth in
one crushed mouth.
The shine in you imagines some
petrified fairy, preserved in you like preformed amber,
pointed toes poised pointed wings flick'ring.
And who's to say impossible in a
once-world where metals melted and
crystals were unformed crystal?
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