gasping minerals, fly–
the burning bubbling fire underneath our mercury trails
streaked in blood
pulling from a deep, deep earth,
embedded in the fingernails of the searching ones,
alone in the rushing of an overflow of oil;
a tender Tearing, branches of sinew
pulling through uninterrupted roots.
It’s a creeping, this crippling slow blindsight,
a choreography of thwarted alchemies,
a ritual of spillage/slippage,
a painstaking investigation of elemental battle wounds.