We ate oysters
Each time we met
and I could think of little
and I could think of little
except for pearls,
The glitter in your eyes
And how a small irritation
Forces an oyster
To defend itself
Spinning until he makes
Smooth the grain
That causes him such injury,
And keeps him spinning
Even after the pearl is made
because he can’t
Spit it out,
He keeps spinning
The gem growing larger
and more painful
over time,
Until someone
With a knife
Cuts it out
We watched the necklace break
A cheap set of potato pearls
Unknotted so that each gem
Scattered across the cobble stones
At our feet
Seeking cracks or drains
From which we could not
recover them all
leaving a lost treasure
For the sweeper to find,
A smooth piece of beauty
Glittering among candy wrappers
And cigarette butts
No irritation now
But a glittering stone
So smooth between his fingers
so delightful to touch,
So precious he might
Never give it up.
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