edible sea shells i used to live inside plastic gloves. hermit crabs crawled along the sidewalk carrying wedding rings. the ocean was always coming closer brimming with messages in bottles. i always worried if i opened one it would tell me something i didn't want to know. once, a friend opened one to find a letter from her mother where she confessed to setting the dog house on fire. there aren't enough confessionals for this life. one on every corner but instead of priests we could have each other. i want to find a stranger to tell about the taste of sea shells. always like butter & sugar. crouching in the waves my brother & i swallowed as many as we could. heard them clap in our stomaches like castanets. we had been so hungry. so willing to try anything. i don't want to scare you but even now when i see an ocean all i can think of is "feast." is it true you shouldn't shower in a lighting storm? because i am not afraid. i turn the water on to find tiny sea shells spilling from the shower head. she sells sea shells by the sea are you sure? there is a dollar bill i keep folded in a triangle in my pocket. soon the electricity will turn on us. form its own civilization. darkness as tangible as icing. licking my fingers. do you know what it means to scrape like this? the bottom of every day for the last petals. here, let me teach you how to be a decorative bowl. not for eating or for serving but for looking into. i have a collection of sea shells & they are ready for us to carry back to the water which is also a mouth. which is also what she is selling which is also so sore it reddens. i will promise you one thing-- this not crack your teeth. this will end in calcite. running our fingers over the shell's ribs. running our fingers over each other's ribs. you will have to believe me.