The black oil

The black thick oil drips slowly, unapologetically

drop by drop engulfing every inch of your body

immersing you with its unsatiable thirst until you realise you are gasping for air,

you find something, a straw, a pen, anything,

and you begin to realise you can still breathe

and you just breathe,

and wait, wait for the oil to soak through the ground where it belongs

Intrigue

Fingers pressing into cold thick mud

Like chocolate slipping between the cracks it moves

Pressing harder, being seduced by the promise of being consumed

knowing the soil will dry up and thirst again