Oyster
F. Waley-Cohen
Watching you drink me, feeling you think me, I drown in the threads of your thoughts as they struggle to sink me.
Alchemy.
Notes trill through my teeth like krill through a reef and I atrophy.
Barnacled bricks stuck limpet slick,
Knuckles are shredded, my blood runs thick,
Breathing the depths of your full fathom eyes, my oyster esh pinking in sympathy.
Octavia Bright _ _Huit(re)_