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when i was small the seashells whispered
shush shush into my ear,
but i heard stories:

shorelines being loved and lapped away 
by oceans, a watching moon paling with jealousy
despite her shining retinue of stars, pulling back 
the sea with white knuckles from the bleeding shore
losing itself grain by grain to the rough hands 
of the atlantic-

when i was older, my mother told me
that a shell can only echo heartbeats.

i still plucked them from the bellies of the beaches,
cupped their fragile curves against my ears
to listen to their prophecies. the past
became the present: i have been the waves, 
the sand, the stars and moon, the rock
and salt a thousand times-
shushed the little girl who does not know
how to let go of sea shells-

i have learnt the art
of uncurling,
finger by finger,
grain by grain,

as i listen to my heartbeart
with my soft hands,

as the seagulls wheel away
like sighs of hope.

tell me something beautiful, i ask them.

shush shush, say
the sea shells.

Not entirely sure if this is finished, but I do like it. Feedback would be lovely, as always. :) Thanks for reading!
SurvivingExtinction Featured By Owner Nov 19, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
It sounds so innocent and sweet. The imagery is honestly breathtaking. I love the last three lines in particular. It's like that ephemeral moment of curiosity a child experiences before finding out it's as simple as that, yet they didn't know what to expect. Those lines just really get to me. :)
1nkl1ng Featured By Owner Nov 20, 2013
:) Thanks.
SurvivingExtinction Featured By Owner Nov 20, 2013  Hobbyist General Artist
De nada, mi amiga.
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Submitted on
November 19, 2013
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