Seashells in your palms-
Tiny in the scheme of things
Fragile and empty-
collect me-
Lay me Gently
down
Among your prized possessions
I am filled
Repeatedly
And your rhythm mimics my longing
The rise and fall of everything
Expanding and collapsing
I am life and death unnoticeable
In the valley of you
Pull me closer
Explore me with your fingers
Light as angels wings and just as holy
Breathless pour your kisses out
Erode me
With your embrace
I will fall to pieces happy
To be close to you
Lover of the wild things
Eternal as the moon
(seen only in darkness)
Have you memorized my ridges?
The way one breaks into another?
Do you prize the emptiness
The spaces you alone can fill?
Does it please you to be needed so?
When you lick your grazing fingers
Do you taste my salt?
(Temporary)
Lover of the lost things
Your shards fall into me
Pricking needle points
On raw stretched canvas
Heat
That is as cold as darkness
Friction
Wears me down
And my mountains melt before you
Collect me- seashells in your palms
Collapsing life and death
Sand
Was i before you
Whole?
And after you
Only time
Measured by the emptying?

—

Sarah Murray is a lover of all things coffee, her favorite book is Winnie The Pooh, and she is constantly going on adventures. She blogs at A Lovely Frame and is The Swan Children Poetry Editor.