• Vol. 03
  • Chapter 01


Mites crawl across apricot skin
On the day of their resurrection
Sweeping across familiar terrain
Beginning again in the pits and troughs
Of a desiccated life
An unstoppable march
Of colonial tendencies
Impervious to poison
Their numbers swell
Unseen by an eye
Which burns and itches
Becoming a red-rimmed sun
On volcanic slopes