Alan P. Scott - Verses

what grows within

     Psyches worn like pearls on skin
     Sliding off and on and in
Lubricated orifice
Poised upon the precipice,
     Ready to begin.

     Pearl and psyche, fact and metaphor
     Dull so quickly alone again, or
Damned to furtive singleton
Turning on the curb to run
     Hopping homeless hoping for

     Stars in my pockets, grains of sand
     Thrown like pearls from where I stand
Standing on a frozen pier
Chilly at the close of years
     Stagger, scatter, turn to land.

     Beneath the ocean, on the floor
     Collect in corners like the dust
Lint and pollen
Eyes will redden
     And oysters gather scars of trust.

     Injured in their hidden places
     Fingerless in craftsmanship
Lies collecting
in the darkness
     Layering forgotten, grew.
     Grew until the divers pried
     Counselled better after cried
Opened up that jagged shell
Discarded all the meat as well
     All focus on the pearl.

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