Bones Like Living Stones
Article voiceover
When the tide of tyrants rises grey and flailing with the arms of seaweed ripped from rocky beds, your toes will fail to grip the effervescing sand that pours away beneath them. Never was the soil could stay its place before the storm of malformed reign, coarse kings with iron in their fists to strip the pilings from those pretty homes, eclipse long years of good intentions. What we’d give to dwell in sessile homes like coral, those whose bones are living stones and can oppose the seething spate to strip its strength, a sieve of flowers planted in the tyrant’s course with roots tenacious in the face of force.
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I can't hold all the words sounds in my ear. I love that.
Loved the use of the form here, Mark. To me it sounds contemporary but no less thought-provoking. A fun playing around with ideas, too. Your words were well-chosen!