The pretty engineer took his arm
    at the tunnel entrance;
They walked a mile
    into the middle of the Andes,
    into a frigid inferno.

"We've passed the border", she said,
    facing the whine and grind
Of a giant rolling worm,
    flashing sparks and lightening,
    as it pushed into Argentina.

They returned to sunlight and ice,
    and she handed him a stone,
An unsuccessful flirtation
    as he released her hand,
    but kept the rock.

She stammered about sensitivity
    to air, humidity, temperature,
"In a hundred years it will be gone,
    unlike love...".
    He shrugged and left.

The stone, grey and white,
    sat for months on a shelf,
Unchanging, leaving only dusty fingertips.
    He was relieved when it was lost --
    A century was too long to wait.


            The feldspar image is copied from 
             the Minerals Database of the 
            "Minerals Education Coalition"