but there are fossils in language too
when we talk about
ourselves post breakup
why do we preserve our
exceptionalism? why
do we crave pity to fill us
like the blue in the wings of
the jewel beetle at messel pit?
at messel pit
lost animals remain.
we see history
and say ‘wow
look’ ‘what do
you know’ ‘I wish I’d
discovered that’
at messel pit there is fur on some of the fossils
a snapshot of a lost world.
nostalgia is blue but also rose-
tinted memories of the best times
‘oh why oh why do
things have to die’ change,
die again. skin shadows on fossil.
on the surface, the mud is neutral.
clean clay. spade.
how do we know where to dig?
under the surface, mud is truth.