I am the tidal-smooth stone you place in your mouth
a  salty pebble to keep a certain kind of craving at bay. 

I cannot swim, but you polish me with your warm hands
you let me settle to the bottom and leave me to the mercy
of brine and sand.  You let the riptide tug at me

pull me distant, and when I think I’m finally lost to sea
you retrieve me.  I am your dark stone, pocket-sized

and overlooked.  You worry me alone at midnight
holding the weight of me on your tongue
just heavy enough to keep you from calling me love.


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