Shell

Rough and salty

of the depths of black mud and octopus and chilling cold griping

salt

so much salt

Ten years of salt, not food salt, and slime and dark or light which one?

Angler fish

Sandwich with bacon

Olive oil pasta with breadcrumbs and salt, stuck in your throat

Waves

bigger and bigger

Swalloved the one and one million shell and burped it on the beach

Light

a square window in a cave

the waves are locked out and we have the key in our pocket

Boat

and wood bench

it creaks and threatens to dump us in the sea and fall to splinters

Print a tattoo

on the sand with a stick

let the waves erose it and pull it back, own it again and keep it 

on the beach it is quiet.

Snow falls.

You and I are friends.