I like stones shaped like rocks,
With natural edges
Their texture just pledges
To be taken out of the box

I like rocks shaped like stones
Waiting, remote
Taking in the cold
Telling stories fleshed out over their bones

Though their appearance is deceptive
I know they’ll be receptive to my hands
My warmth seals the cracks
My fingers retrace the complex patterns their surface appends

At first they seem so rough
It only makes it better when they crumble to my touch