i'll never be a poet

magma beings

i move like the sun and sing like the moon
i dance to snap and shake my crusted bones.
my humming song rumbles through the ground
to my sisters, my mother, my daughter,
tune our epicentres to one another's pulse
sync our boiling lungs.
our molten blood flows, it shows
through our pores, it glows iron red.

we are magma beings
we are fire and water
superfluos heat
melt our skin over him like a blanket
magnet hearts pulse as one core
touch us if you want to explode
brilliant eruption of stardust debris
he swims in bubbling pools

he was born from our core
heart stuff and rock supersized into callous soul
radiates heat from head and base
he ploughs through this earth
trench after trench of wet brown mud
hoping to find a glimmer of gold to hold
but he draws tributaries of scarlet blood in his wake
and we awake
the tremours tremble his pebble self
he is swept off his feet, lands in the lava-baked dust
that clouds up and swirls at our feet
roots are veins and we are of one blood
that's what keeps the sisterhood connected
we explode together and orange blooms across the ash sky
we shed our streaming tears in red
blood scabs over into umber
and cools to stone cold death.

his footprints, embossed on the slope,
grow meadow green
tiny buds creeping up
laying their baby heads on our sleeping bellies.