The hermit crab lives alone in its own small shell.
I, too, live in my own small shell.
Its walls are dark and cozy like a cave.
I scuttle about from tide pool to tide pool and I am happy.
But lately my shell/cave paintings trouble me.
Images of dark seagulls and undulating creatures live on my walls.
I fear my shell/cave has grown too heavy.
I fear I no longer know where
the shell/cave ends and where I begin.
I am shell/
I am dark cave.
I hope our childhood fear of you is replaced by a quiet awe like a fetus awakening in the dim of the womb for the very first time.