Transform!

 The mind screams, incoherent words, 
that neither of me understands
let alone you, this mountain, it stands 
of basalt, a shade of grey green
hot to the touch in the dead of the night
I am already there, my mind feels like the solidified magma
formed over sixty five million years hoping to be touched
by your gentle laughter, to crack open
and transform into carnelian beads
changing and transforming to the orange hues