Little fires in the den
they peeked out from their little shells
shells with curves, like desire, beauty,
If you place your ear inside one,
You may hear the Moon,
calling, singing,
lullabies, ballads,
telling you to swim
In the sea with the
Mermaids, and bask in
salt-like deepness —
Oh how deep this iridescent water is!
even beneath the crescent,
It, still, is like placid glass,
an alive sea foam –
stretching and bending
to the Mouths of Beautiful
Sea Snails – serene and tenderly
loving.