Not like a garter snake discarding
his soiled patterned jacket of
diamonds and stripes,
multiple times a year,
unzipping his skin to
pull himself through,

First, not even my breakfast egg could stay.
Like anything easily shattered by a clumsy hand
it rolled so slowly it seemed motionless
as it toppled off the edge twisting down
down to the slick tiled floor

There’s a line
between you
and me
that is fluid.
Why try
to unlock
the shore
from the sea?