Silurian conduit
Braiding the soil
Sightless, unseen

It would not know “light”
But wonders—

What of this strange fracture
This slight warmth
What is beyond it?

An “un-earthing” occurs
Or “ex-earthing” or “in-airing”

The nomenclature of inversion

In that moment, the worm learns that
“Lost” is a loneliness

It must learn these
Truths quicker than us
Its timeline torn, uncertain

It realizes:

“Lost” is cold stone
Primer gray
Writhing tides of endless ocean
Crests of laundry lint,
Gurgling drain

“Lost” is growing tired
Of coiling
Meaning from
Negation

“Lost” is slowness.
Stationariness.

Is dryness,
Is being
Buried in air