Beneath the skin

 Here, 

above the tunnels

beneath the Earth's skin,  

from here,

rising in all directions,

the hills

dwell 

standing watch.  

Below

caverns, grottos, 

veins of nickel, mercury, and gold. 

There,

silent pools of water, 

souls 

lying in wait for eternity— 

a watery vigil without words. 

Shapes waiting to be remembered 

before they can let go.

Bats suspended on rock walls, 

dreaming dreams smaller than 

the map in the palm of anyone's hand. 

There, 

the yet unrescued bones 

the unfound faceless skulls  

gaze without eyes into the depths— 

beyond measure

beyond fate

where the stories of the ancients began.

—Lorena (2016, 2025)