Ghosts the Host Has Left Behind
All my emptiness is gone.
Every last lacuna filled in
No room for anything else
Without a void nothing new
Is ever possible.
I’m intractable object
Trapped in its final form.
Only tectonic pressures
Of geological time
Can change me now.
I drift along abyssal plains
Looking for signs of life.
This is the subduction zone where love
Collides with ancient basaltic rock
And raises a coastal range,
Where ocean crusts dive
Beneath the edge of your continental shelf,
Deep into the heat of the mantle and melt.
What’s left is solid cold granite
All the way through.
No room for anything new
All my emptiness is gone.
2/2/25
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