I am a shell

emptied of my whelk,

hollowness echoing

within walls of these remains.


however, I will not be made useless.


consume my flesh

as your feast

for hunger.

exchange me as commerce

for that which cries

more important.

carve through my pitted rind

to find the pink pearl

I grew in still waters.


do what you wish.


for in the end,

I know,

I will have the breath

cast through me.

making me a sacred

seaside instrument

with such beautiful sound

to safe guard

and celebrate,

to call the dancers,

and summon the spirits

in the virtual renewing

of all that is



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