To Retire at Peace

You once were a body 
of dirt and tiny roots,
grub worms and cicadas.

Sometime in the night

you turned to grey stone
and started to question
the idea of mobility.

You forgot that erosion
is a rock’s sure-fire ticket

to a beachside retreat
someplace nice and warm.

It took only 10,

000 years and 1,

000,000,000 raindrops

to remind you.

Now you enjoy
frozen piña coladas

in a body of light,

a body prone to catch fire
given prolonged exposure,

a body prone to move faster
than anything else you’ve known.
To Retire at Peace

Sock it to me

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