The fox says "you are not beautiful." The gazelle says "you are a shrimp." The ocean does not suffer fools. Shrimp swings in nets across the docks. I touch your cheek, move a lock of hair. My fingers are twisted shrimp, boiled, pink. Night leaps – darkness flys, turns, is gone. Beneath stars I shrimp, I crab, I snail.
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Scratch Space 
Gah. So good:
“My fingers are twisted shrimp, boiled, pink.”
And those animal verbs at the end. Fantastic.
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Verb ’em baby.
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ALWAYS.
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“Beneath stars I shrimp, I crab, I snail.” … Incredible closing.
“I touch your cheek, move a lock of hair.” … Beautiful.
This is so lovely and wise. I am deeply moved. It bears the essence of haiku, yet expanded. Profound, clear, simple. The heart of truth.
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Thank you!!
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Jumbo!
Fun read. Thanks.
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Jumbo!!
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😉
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