Slow time still flows by night

The patient stars align

Their sigils constant, their patterns known

They draw ripples 'cross the stone

Fifty million years wide, a molten tide

Hills rise up, hills erode

I see your face made strange

Pain accrued in substrate waves

That on your brow broke

Like subduction, like undertow

Your world quakes, your world erodes

And as the dawn breaks, in shadow I wait

For your shape to be exposed