Los Hervideros

in the sea caves of Los Hervideros

there's bubbling and boiling

there's an ecstasy
hard like basalt
you can stroke its jagged edges

below in the labyrinth 
there's raw power and brute force

there's a rapture

beneath winding pathways and balconies

you hear the growling pest in the pit

and beyond, in a certain light

or an uneasy time of day

the Malpais and Monte Bermeja darken your mood

dragging basalt chains 

wearing ashen shrouds

the beckoning precipice of the boiling pans