where we slept that darkest night

• no hotel room only the foot 
• of a benevolent volcano 
• which steamed & wept & sighed 
• one of a chain a guard row 
• that ran the length 
• of two continents a barrier 
• against oceanic flooding 

• no flowers just the darkest 
• grey sand chunks of lava 
• dulled & hardened we slept 
• at the volcano’s base 
• listening for the earth core’s 
• whimpers & feeling the fitful 
• twitch of its muscles 

• no birds clouds & stars 
• swirled above us 
• the open-air swoop of bats 
• & the dance of gnats 
• in ascending & descending 
• spirals the soundless work 
• of tiny creatures 

• but there was a slow river 
• a channel of hushed thought 
• flowing between us & the red core 
• our river joining what flowed 
• deep & molten beneath us 
• it was night it was almost love 
• it was almost strong 

Photo by kazuend on Unsplash.