we clatter the seabed, grey-blue
curves dusted by sand, collectibles
forever left behind

we funnel beneath the *****,
beige shores, hidden from the sky,
out of sight, out of mind

we grind stones and pebbles,
fine as the freckles on your face,
against our chapped lips

we nurse the cracking carcasses,
saltwater biting at our raw cheeks,
puppets, helpless in the tide

we are hollow, devoid of shine,
and we feel our beating pearls
gasping for air in your poisonous,
silken pockets