Pearl Eyed People

She placed the cleaver
between its lips, cracked
the clam open and
I don’t know why but
I started crying
as she plucked pearl seeds
from its pink belly
ripped like shredded
satin dresses of inner cheeks,
it never bled.

If I were motionless
unmoved on the bottom
of the ocean, I’d sleep
hands over chest
my hair swaying above me
tickling the fish tummies
who pass me by
and work my life
to occasionally opening
my eyes, fermenting
from the inside,
would I learn
how to cry?

Artwork by Carla Fuentes

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