The tar edges soak the circle I find myself in
Reflecting the crisp chilling echoes that pierce my eardrums
Reaching out I grab a handful of the wall dirt and taste its earthy flavor
Grains filtering through my teeth
Above only a faint light far away provides me any kind of sight

But down here rivered cracks in the mantle give me tracks to trace a flow stuck in time
And I am alone in the boat of my twenty digits fingers and toes
At the end I meet a dike of flesh my leg
But I push on continuing my voyage upwards toward the loins of the river
The cold springs feel good in my hands

The warming light breaks from above exposing my crotch
I don’t stop the journey but rather let the warmth fuel my paddling
As I approach the end my arms fly skyward
Gripping the rim of the lonesome hole that seemed so foreign before