of mollusks & sea urchins, some spiked,
others flabby as wombs, the sand a shifting floor.
only 6 & it is the silence of the deep sea
she loves, the cut of coral,
that breathe with their whole bodies;
feeling, pulsing, opening.
until she's ready for the brass-framed bed
& pink pajamas. her body straight
beneath the sheet,
her face alive, pupils wide to take in
the remaining night-light,
before lids flutter down
& small fingers furl
like soft underwater-creatures