Quick Silver

To be in touch with sides, and to walk along a shifting sandline, these are approaches to civilization. Then the rocket. And the fault lies with earthquakes. And children discover the mystery of solids. No souls, only spheres that vibrate when we approach. Chives and potatoes. And mercury. That silver quickening of black blood waiting in the trees. A proper face and a warming hand that adjust the collision. The comfort of dolls, the slats between the moments in time. The boy with his hand in his mouth. The boy with his speech sliding to the horizon.