my soulsilt is
diatomaceous
callously scrubbing
hope of any
surface in which
frenzied fingers
can find hold
slipping through
the hadal zone
in a lightless world
where an overabundance
of icy acidic waves
ten thousands times
surface pressure
lovingly crushes
hollow daydream
giving form to
all new naturally
occuring terrors
proving life
even one unlived
always finds a way