Ocean shell ridged and lined by waves,
rejected by the sea to find a man’s hand.
A man who would cut eyes of open wonder,
rectilinear nose and cooing mouth.
A face of bliss? Surprise? Innocence?
And this man would take you with him,
place your hard face over his transient one
as he lay down under the mound
and his god would know of his awe,
and let him rest, and allow him his spirit
But you are ripped from the ground,
meaning stripped from you like dirt clods
and you coo at the scavenger
like a baby lost from its mother.