on a stretch of beach put to your insecure ear a small shell roars

but it is your ear your air you have listened to bouncing off the whorls

off this beach gathered sold and set upon a shelf still a pretty thing

dusty dusted held against your selfish ear your secrets back to you

← An IndieWeb Webring πŸ•ΈπŸ’ β†’

I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.