Etched and carved
To perfection.
Each line and curve,
As from nature’s breast
Senses gratified.
Hard stone, soft touch
Soft tone, hard lust
Eyes glaze,
Horizons collapse
Into each-other.
What’s outside belies within
The unseen sheen
Of rusted truth.
Dreams arrested
In a stone-dead grip.
Fossilized hope.
Outside, fluid lines
Inside, frozen minds
Layer on layer
Each lava level cools
Till the hot core
Is doused,
With cold, cold cold.
