They stand on the stone stage beneath a sky of rock and clay. Muscular vines coil about the broken pillars, building them anew. Man or woman you cannot tell what they once were, all that matters is what they are: healed. Whole. Face folded back in fleshy, fanged petals, baring a blackness within their skull. Grains of sand shroud their head, burning as they're pulled into the nothing. A celestial halo, a cosmic lensing. God buried you beneath the sand but soon you'll pull yourself free. Reach into yourself and share what you have with your kin, share what you are and become part of the tree. Flesh of my flesh, leaf and bark and blood and bone.
Feel the thorned teeth split your tongue. Reach up and pull your face apart, open the maw in your head. It hurts but birth always hurts and it won't hurt for long. Eat the sand. Eat the land. Eat towards the sky.
If you all work together it shouldn't take long at all.
