Anomiidae

            Where
the sea has eaten your heart
                         your edges sharpen, golden.                        Where
                       waves’ roll
             has folded you, bold
small parts
amber the sand.                        Where
wafer-notes of a lost
shanty jingle underfoot:           
           exfoliant songshapes.
                     Where
the             new moon pares
her nail over the mirror.                        Where
sea sieves
a life’s pieces and keeps the gleaming.                        Where
through your lens
the world slips
             gold like a fish
                                  a ray
caught in foam nets, shorelines’
curation.                         Where
your halved             bivalve means
solitude, no one            to close
into.                        Where
translucent hours cut             loose
flower             gold, each petal aflame.