Musica Universalis

If I were to put a shell

up to my ear,

tentative and timid,

I would hear

your voice

would hear your hair

would hear the undulation of your upper lip,

smooth pink like the conch’s interior,

and every bit of you would spiral high

in high pitches and sighing breezes,

something to be praised across empires

for your pearly lustre.

After listening

to the sea rushing through you,

I would hold you up to the light,

turning you this way and that,

admiring your fibrous flame

as you would shimmer,

listening back to me

with your silky cat’s eye,

hoping for wind and sea

inside of me.

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