Subduction
when the earth’s crustal plates collide
one plate drawn down to be overridden by another
until I can no longer breathe
and for every mile you dig beneath the surface of the earth
the temperature rises fifteen degrees
my skin burns from the tip of the shovel against my sternum
the earth’s core, hotter than the sun,
is surrounded by an outer layer of liquid
that evaporates my tears as quickly as they fall
I wrap the mantle,
the transition zone where rocks cannot melt or disintegrate,
around my shoulders until I crystallize
break, heal, fracture
into a fingerprint embedded in the gravel
Writing 