and i saw that foreign ocean
move like a snake skin
and into it, i poured my existence
like soft foam, writhing through
the bleeding surf churning
against my skin.


in the waves i lay shattered
into glittering violet and mauve pieces
like glass on the surface
of the indian ocean.


at the end, i am moaning
windswept on a beach of hard
sallow bones warm from the
day of sun


and i am cradling shells and
pearls as round and cold as
sunken eyes


i collect each one as
i collected past loves;
they clink together delicately
and purposefully
as a necklace.