Artifact
You are not a yellowing mapunder his thumb. Or a hoeleft to rust in waxbean fields sheathedin snow. You are a terrainof moments older. A cartographer’snightmare. The lithosphere’s shiftingsister. Tectonic plate heartbeat shaking the bed. Seismicorgasm. River snakingthrough a city remembrance. You grow skyscrapercynical with every hotter winter. Your voiceis not an engine revving or a bald eaglecry in a… Read more →