Shells

Where have I been these last 12-plus months? I want to tell you I’ve been rediscovering life but that would be a lie. Instead, I’ve been slowly crumbling under the weight of … me. I’ve always been my own worst enemy, but I’m also brutally self-aware and honest with myself and that’s when my creativity kicks in. I’ve got some ideas for my next writing challenge, so stay tuned. For now, I leave you with a poem I started last summer during a warm, quiet day overlooking the Navesink River in Fair Haven, N.J.

Shells

My palm is a cradle, and

your Caribbean blue coat pops

against my pale, splotchy skin

light, dainty, fragile

not unlike my own,

though I work hard to conceal it.

You are smooth, barely blemished

but for two nut-brown dots.

Are those liver spots

like mine?

I don’t remember

aging, but I do

remember

when my flesh was soft, supple

and white

as a snowflake

but with fewer lines.

Before my walls cracked

and the years spilled forth,

dating me,

like a moth-eaten bridal gown,

torn, tattered, and filled with holes,

spread open for all to see

(like you nestled in my hand)

that it is I

who punctured me.

 

*Image by Claudia Heimann from Pixabay.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *