Whether metaphorical or straight daggered to the point, volumes are spoken. My effect may be small as a grain of sand, but I swing to you in cargo holds of 10,000 x 10,000. I breathe through heart shaped straws buried far beneath the earth’s surface. Lying down to form, my own tectonic layer. You can’t rake through deep enough to find me.
Sheltered in wait to shake you once again — down to your knees. Vibrating your bones with the thunderous beats of my chest. Breaking down patterns of resistance in one attack of my ocean walls. We fight with smoking stones that weep with passionate cries of love. Each blow thrusts us deeper into the eye of the storm. Merging our bodies, dissecting our life’s smoke, and making us so much more than ever expected. Liquefied and soaking between our fingers. Hoping for only what can be given, and becoming one within that world.