Seed: charged potential to root through tangles comprising planets’ cores–unconscious desire to spark given the slightest tinge of conductive aminos held solute in soil-water. But, there will be no exploding erosion, no earth-flow released, no lost viscosity in vicious rain of pre-catharsis melting peaceful sediment into murderous lahar. Mortality won’t wind its coil. Heavy sex of humid afternoons grow to thunderheads unburstable, without wounding discharge. It’ll die here, unable to live: tight chemical consort of void, un-growth caught within stone fissure, crystalline matrix blank-wall prison shell stiff, ever-slow undead rot, no cellular transport, no impression of acceleration.
[submitted for Ballardian.com micro-fiction contest. Didn't win.]