shell

there are mornings
when the oyster of my mind refuses to open.
i call it-- stingy.
rolling over i kiss you,
and read the sonnet of your neck
to disguise memories of
salty explosions, rose wallpaper.
seaside sensation laps my mind,
stretching you like a veil over sleep.

i am without barrier now--
no wall to keep out everything
that i never remember, anyway.
you are here to see the tide rolll in--
i have no high ground to offer
and i fear you will be swept away.
go on collecting shells--
i will hold my tears
to ankles' depth, for you.
where once was a wall--
now rocks a small boat,
shadow memories hollowed out.
if my weeping should set the boat adrift--
watch the waves for my return.