Rotifers on Ice
Tiny specs of white hidden underfoot, rings of cilia lined up to blow frozen kisses against the earthy, dirty glass. Sawed. Stored. Thawed. We break
Siberia
Unearthing the Clay House
These ancient frozen soils supress secluded secrets, our speculative stratigraphy too coarse to expose the folly of your foundation; panning for timelines that slip through
A Thawing Habitat
Your barren canvas stretches Tightly across forgotten states; Caught between unforgiving waves And starry mountain peaks, Your pulse beats unhurriedly In this hibernation of solitude.