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                   Shaping shell through sentiment in sediment, 

something like an initiation into              blood love





                            Across the oceanic Country that is

                                               silver of salt of mother tongue

                                     to the place where you always are

                            there is a              relic                     beneath the water

                      which is also a           relic                     in itself




                            I will give you an oyster

to press the softness against your heart,

         to sense the ebb of sharp edge against salted skin

                   and watch the purple rind change under moonlight




                            If a grain of sand has relived the myth

and become a pearl, iridescent                 

                                       behind shy oyster walls not yet ajar,

                   then I will extract the myth from the stars

                                                                 and give you                 

                                                                                    a pearl, 

over and over again,

                                     which is to say

                                               I will give you my heart. 

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