Tuesday, September 20, 2022

OYSTER

The death of men has a new Mother.
Their souls' opening changing them like birth.
When will her hands prize open my own shucked brain,
Releasing all my thoughts and juices
Into the salted earth?
I can feel the rain advancing down my shell as it washes me away into the world,
Diluted, more enriching,
I ossify my existence and become a pearl.

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