by Anastasia Kalos
beneath the closely packed earth.
Oblivious to the salted air,
sonorous crests and troughs,
that reshape each crag and hollow,
eons that hark back to the primordial,
currents and suspended microbes.
as the once polished coffin fragments,
along with flesh, cloth and bone.
Only her hair remains,
the silvery shroud,
that encases, guards and embraces,
as the codified testament,
to the dance,
Down to first principles,
the infinitesimal blueprint.