i admire
your collection of shells.
each
handful
from a different beach,
a different
state
or country.
i like how you've placed
them
on the shelves,
the windowsill so that
everyone
can admire them.
i have nothing bad
to say
about your shells,
white and pink,
some streaked with gold
or blue.
i like the story that
each
shell tells.
sometimes i hold one
up to my
ear,
and listen.
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