Shadow Puppets & Seashells

You mock me with shadow puppets cast against concrete.

Your hand is steady; it exalts in structure, in form.

I want to throw off the confines of your uniform like an ill-fitting shoe.

I fold complexity, moving patterns,

and rhythms beyond your vision and measure.

Melody; memory's whisper and tomorrow's song, turning like glass fragments in light. Rotate the lens once to see only shards. Rotate again to witness wholeness.

Listen to the opera of my heart through the conch of the ocean.

Put it to your ear; listen to the echo of me.  If you cannot hear my choirs,

It is best you leave me to the sand.  There are starfish that will embrace

me, and you can find the geometry best suited to your hands,

in landscapes far neater than I.