Water wove me, dawn
dyed me, sand fed me, a child
held me to the sun.
A seagull absorbed me,
soaring from saltfoam into
the deep swells of cloud.
In my carapace
I contain oceans, bubbles,
continents of sand.
Empty of its flesh
my frame harbors the sea’s voice,
the moon’s memory.
Crash through the windows
of my broken self, bright wave.
I shake with laughter.