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The oyster whispers echo
within its own silent shell
Its utters of longing
sought to bejewel
a pearl's essence,
as an ocean's murmur
heaves within its shuck

Some might call it lightly
fragile hope;
a fleck of light in dark

Or just a dream
of an unspoken grain of sand,
a diamond in the rough

someone you used to know ...June 2017
Kate Lion Jan 2013
Nobody clams up over the right things
Flecks of dirt won't make beautiful ever
But those enormous irritations you take with a grain of sand
I tuck those things away
For a long while
It is against my nature to do so
It is awkward to keep salty things on the tip of one's tongue
Without spitting them out
Oh, I long to swallow
How much longer must I be closed up, love?

— The End —