says she can hear the ocean.
but if you listen close to these shells
you can hear ghosts.
something borrowed, something blue,
something broken, something bruised.
she traces her fingers across the autopsy scars
while she counts her bones like currency.
she'll leave your skin screaming,
and sink into the whites of your eyes like a shipwreck.
can you hear the ocean?
Congratulations on your DD. I never would have thought listening to a seashell would bring out a poem like this.
It's well-written and imaginative beyond what I thought when I listened to a seashell. I only heard an echo of the sea and ghosts.
Maybe it ...sank into the whites of your [my] eyes like a shipwreck...
Mostly I hear the ghosts you wrote about and I'm glad to read about them. Thank you.
Have a nice day!