oysters

once,
upon a time,
we were sisters
but today,
we are cysters:

avalanching disease
dismissing misters.

once,
upon a time,
we were pearls
but today,
we are blisters:

waiting for a pin
to prick us.

my precious.

picking up stones,
and throwing sticks.

once,
upon a time,
I’d fetch it,
your fetish
but today,
you’re a blemish:

numbering victims
with ballistic hits.

death,
by cluttered
fluttering wings,

life,
on sitar notes
and diamond rings.

breathe,
ultra violet,
while you are read.