Warm--
in the plasma heart
of the earth
In the before time--
there--
I swam,
blind in liquid
iron currents
that ignited magnetic
thoughts.

And the hunger came
to draw me away.

Here--
in the granite strata,
in silica beds,
were the fire sea
has thinned--
to rivers
and arteries
it has become
cold and hard and
so have I.

And still hunger calls
from far away.

Soon--
the softening shell
beyond the molten rills
shall break away to
a place--
I have never
seen or dreamed
and my density shall
make the soil into
ocean.

And the hunger will
consume me.

Then--
I shall burst the bounds
and boundaries of
imagination and cast aside
all covering--
and in a place
without end, with wind,
trees, buildings made by soft
wiggly tasty life--

the hunger will be
satisfied. 

Replete--
I shall sleep a
thousand years until
my body cracks and breaks
asunder--
Then, reborn, I shall
spread stone wings
and clap up thunder
abandoning the world for
the heatless void.

Until I bury myself in magma,
in a new before time.