The Sparkling Clam

Time is a precious commodity⁣
⁣
when you know yourself too well⁣
⁣
Know when you know better.⁣
⁣
I knew from the start this time⁣
⁣
The charm came too soon⁣

and I liked being adored⁣
but when he cast his net ⁣
I never got caught
Instead I slipped free⁣
and escaped his night trawl⁣
⁣
fell tumbling⁣
⁣
d ⁣
o ⁣
w ⁣
n⁣
⁣
to a jet black ocean floor⁣
⁣
I shut my shell up tight⁣
every opening a risk to⁣
my soft grey centre⁣
⁣
Ssssssssssand sifted across my sea bed⁣
⁣
There was safety in solitude⁣
⁣
⁣
‘i can’t stay shut forеver’⁣
⁣
⁣
I dont need to.⁣
⁣
I just must avoid⁣
⁣
the fishermеn⁣
the sailors⁣
the soldiers⁣
the boys ⁣
⁣
who will suck⁣
⁣
out my pearls ⁣
⁣
peel off my shell⁣
⁣
boil my body ⁣
&⁣
call me dinner⁣
⁣
⁣
Slowly but surely⁣
⁣
I became a sparkling clam⁣
⁣
spending days in sun rays⁣
⁣
on virgin gold sand⁣
⁣
elegant and violent⁣
⁣
strengthened by escape⁣
⁣
from the butchers above⁣
⁣
who knew nothing of love⁣
⁣
Just the ritual massacre⁣
⁣
“Bait Scrape Suffocate”⁣
⁣
⁣
One friday night I thought⁣
⁣
is death really worse⁣
⁣
than eternal loneliness? ⁣
⁣
Is the danger of damage ⁣
⁣
better than its absence?⁣
⁣
⁣
I spend my days in silence ⁣
⁣
at the bottom of the sea⁣
⁣
cool dark and clean⁣
⁣
now safe and serene⁣
⁣
⁣
yet I yearn ⁣
⁣
to open up⁣
⁣
and return⁣
⁣
to sea level⁣