Bonnie Brooke

The Seashell

She swam in a salt dress of silver,
naked as a kept truth.
I adored her from the dune
watching from times death
my time of life,
contemplating love
and how it feels to hollow shells
once it fills the void.
She surfaced from a shelf wave
dropping diamonds from her hair,
holding a shell which she pressed on my palm

"Princess Seahorse, you once enjoyed
a stroking naked truth like this,
and afterwards a raptured, loosened calm."

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Published on on 11/29/2006.


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