lascaux

i wish i were a rock

in the caves of lascaux,

i wish you were the paint on me.

we’d hid underground

for millions of years to come,

a mystery of history.

i’d let you cover me,

i’d let you run your stenciled hands all over me,

i would let you stay,

never to chip away.

when they’d discover us,

no photograph would ever be enough to capture our love.

their breath could not erase,

oh no, it would not leave a trace

on our pictograms above.

they’d never know of the night

you came to me by torch light,

how on my surface, you found purpose.

and we would never know of rain

or cataclysmic tides,

and we would never know of earth’s tumult

or humankind’s demise.

now i’m like a rock,

i’m at the bottom of the sea,

tumblin’ in a riptide.

you are the undertow,

and i am oh, so glad to go

wherever you are bound.

i’d let you cover me,

i’d let you run your current right through me

you would let me stay

never to erode,

and we would never know of rain.