Seashells
Pressing ear to ear
we hear the crash of
distant shores in the
echoes of our shells.
Somewhere that is not
here, the hollow wave
is calling. Somewhere
between our cheeks, the
static air confides.
Pressing ear to ear
we hear the crash of
distant shores in the
echoes of our shells.
Somewhere that is not
here, the hollow wave
is calling. Somewhere
between our cheeks, the
static air confides.