the empty shells
upon the beach,
pink hued
like sunsets,
feathered white
and brown.
lifeless in their
hard beauty.
the sheen
of ocean wear upon
their skin.
unbreathing,
yet not without voice
as you cup
one to your
ear. how often
you understand more
by what's not
being said,
than what is.
Friday, January 31, 2014
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