Lifted from the tide pool,
Malachite
Lies wet and cool
In my hand
While primordial memory
Flickers in my blood
Or quivers across my skin
As I touch Malachite’s cousin,
Serpentine,
Warm and slick in the sun.
Wet tadpole ripples
Ride the heart rhythm
Pulsing in waves.
Lizard sand trails
Scrape scales against flesh.
Sediment silts into the riverbeds
Of my veins.
Cooling magma steams
In my bones.
I am rock and life.
I am alone on the beach
Where ancient memory
Assaults reality
And transforms dreams.
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