The Existence of Pearls

A tiny bird is waiting
inside every lonely womb.
My child pretends to sleep;
a dark angel watching.

On the other side, a finger
pointing always towards sky;
a solitary ray of light
bends down to meet it.

So the pearl spirals round
its grain of sand and grows
in darkness, an unseen jewel.
The mussel that cradles it,

tightens and chokes it.

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