A Plead To Open

Thousands of feet below where down is up,
Darkness is your palm on my eyes.
Our skins murmur. 
Two chests, tectonic plates, glide past. 
We lace hands to hold the earth down. 

We are only 
Children with unfinished dinners hiding beneath
Door frames and sturdy kitchen tables scared of the aftershock,
Hiding in older bodies.

What if the earth were to open
And we fell together. If I 
Discover the raw/pink insides and the angry streak,
Sharp like one white strand in black hair,
I will love it,
Continue to let it
Cause all the tremors.