Brother, what can I say? Pure elegance.

Pain as something that solidifies over time like geological matter, without explicitly referring to mind or trauma, is a sophisticated choice. An emotion that becomes something ordinary and permanent. The coherence is extremely high; you never slip into naming what is already being named through the geological metaphor. A carefully controlled, refined lexicon that never drifts elsewhere. It reads like Victorian poetry with modern, polished structure, a blend of styles that work well together, and the imagery is physical. A metaphysical and symbolic poem that manages to convey the rigidity of pain that does not move and becomes calcified.

And then the rhymes. The rhymes.

Well done, brother. As always, perfect.