ELIZABETH HARRISON

Shell

Anger is dead. I have replaced it with a half shell,
detached & delicate pink. Coughed up by the sea.

On the beach, I hold it gently, knowing love is
a place you can live a long time without feeling.

An exercise: Let the saltwater burn. Excoriate
the skin and regret it immediately. Gone too far.

Break it down. The sun is too round and too bright
to believe in. The hole in the wall the size of your fist.

To witness struggle and decay. Listen to your own
stray heartbeats and try to interpret the meaning

Compartmentalized disasters gather in the curtains
like wind. At the party words get stuck behind your lips

You imagine oysters on these platters, antique silver
you can mentally trace the ornate twists follow

The birds, grapes, lilies. See their crossed legs,
distorted as they speak in the reflection