The destruction of Byzantium is a daily practice
among herring gulls seizing unsuspecting spiny
urchins off barnacled stones at low tide. Crisp-
winged strokes, red tipped beaks crush and gorge
on delicacies of Japanese sashimi. Gulls hurtle
skyward to litter soft needled paths with shattered
porcelain temples. Fragile spines bleach to lavender,
fade to luminous white. Inside, pointillist lacework
etches a curving architecture built by a soft bellied
hunger. Dawn finds me crouched ankle deep, rubber
sandaled, gazing into a choreography of living spines,
purple filaments swaying in my rippling reflection.
Sea Ur ch i ns
168 / 169
Sea urchin
a choreography of living spines,
purple filaments swaying in my
rippling reflection
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