Breakable

You,

the sand dollar I have found,

are marked with little holes

in your nature,

powdered and breakable.

I feel your beauty

as I trace the patterns of your face,

and hold you from the salty grip of beachcombers.

You have been picked up many times

but never kept.

There is a void in your center,

where you carry the memory of your source,

where you vaguely remember the water

running through your body.

You wait for me to drop you where I found you

I smooth away the gritty sediment

and see the strength in you

who have emerged from the ocean

and carry the journey on your face.

~Annabelle Moseley