Iris Fan Xing ‘amygdala or the bald head trail’

From South of Words

of course the path changes 
regardless of your lead

boulders gather or split
against the lapping below

but the sea quenches your eyes
still seasons away from its mirage

an iceberg is also just a thought
along our meandering

from each snake hole
a sun glares out

we look away
treading on in disbelief