AMBER GOODWYN

Lost my heart-
shaped earring
among the
oyster shells

or maybe
along the
wet sidewalks
in the mist

or maybe
between the
cracks in our
fairytales

or maybe
in the crease
of my teal
rain jacket

or maybe
straining to
whisper in
a tall ear

or maybe
between songs
in a young
crowded room

or maybe
while dancing
on the spot
all alone

or maybe
in a glass
held tightly
at the bar

or maybe
stealing looks
at the bright
shining faces

or maybe
in the bag
burst open
in my room

or maybe
it’s back home
having found
its own way

all this time
I have been
searching for
my heart of

gold

You are sand in me:
I am at the bottom
of a silent sea.

Open like lips,
marble in mouth,
murky butterfly.

Roll you over
in slow strokes,
a thought made
sticky grit.

The soft suck
of salty flesh,
radiant pearl
in wet fringe.

A dream under pressure:
softer than diamonds,
slick with liquor.