Interesting, how the river bends into beds that shimmer iridescent,
A clarity that withers into vibrations, 
Until you convalesce from convulsions, 
You will find a diatribe of rebuke, challenging your memory,
It blurs into truth, if you squint hard enough,
There is a kernel that sits there, a pearl at the bottom of the ocean,
But it takes too much breathing to get to the surface,
Stay out of the limelight, before the sun bleaches you down into nothing,
Oysters will grieve,
Don’t cut yourself on the shell.