Amber Core Pulse

One finger presses into damp silt, carving a deliberate groove through circular ridges to mark the shifting bank. As rhythmic pulses of mud slip between skin and earth, every trace of intention begins to soften under the weight of a slow, unyielding current. These asymmetric wounds in the clay suggest that existence resides not in the permanence of any shape, but in the heavy density of pressure applied against a world constantly washing itself clean.