Sand Handle

sandhandleWe pulled on the handle
And went down to live with the crabs,
Burrowing in four-feet deep
To crusty water, the smell
Of ocean death and pincher,
Taste of ancestors crowding darkness,
The message of being sunk
Foundering us in the brine.

I have always wanted
To know what would happen
If I opened that door.

–Shaun Perkins

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