one minute only

This is a poem I wrote for my poetry class, and I am posting it here because I kind of like it. It needs a lot of revision, but I am OK with that at this point.

Rock bottom

As we sat by the lacuna, swinging on the swings, and
eating pita with pumice
She told me
I’m depressed
I’m tired of all this, these ignimbrite people, these obsidian dreams
Volcano! I tried to shell her. I know it’s tuff, but theralite
something underneath.
You’ve got to interpret the seismic wavelengths at your core
Don’t give in to the pressure or convection and see
That life isn’t sedimentary
But grand—
it makes me marble in all its magma
its beauty, too much to mantle

Her body seemed lithological,
And she had a flint in her ice
As she whispered to me, with a hint of adventurine (and limestone)
under her breath
Tectonically, you’re right.
But granite,
I don’t give a schist.