Igneous At The Core

Granite,

lined like bookbinds,

stratified loneliness--

a pressing, lengthening of limbs,

heaviest words, incapacitated.

I am closed to your ideas,

rejecting your outcrops;

My heart’s weight in

granite.

Grace has challenged the Real Toads to write a rictameter. I've worked with this form but not lately, and had forgotten. Thank you, Grace!