deconstruction
Beatriz Alcala

I see a passage underground
a worm’s tunnel as it burrows down
I see nature nurturing the organic
unravelling years of synthetic glory
the unbecoming of all things
dust to dust
each grain a miracle under lock and key
crystal latticed patterns
I see the geometry of the otherworld
as the sun hits at the right angle
glints of possibilities quivering in the daylight
beating with a heart of its own
where beauty is jargon
unobserved by the consciousness
I see my own naked eye trapped in its very socket