Editor
Geodes
From air I have crept
in spheres
through caves
underground
making an entrance
to the roots
Over time, I am hardened
in the cold Om thrill
up freezing oar,
toads forest
Ice thin
growing over a jewelry box
of mineral instincts
slowly
foraging
for the silica
as it enters me, a cool bath of fingers,
forming thousands of years out of me
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