Shell Poem

I don't feel beautiful
a boney pillow

a dirty garment
an average fragment

It's been slipping loose
my mysterious youth
like ice being scraped off a windshield
get it out of my way so I can see

but I try to keep it
for me it is more like
shell chocolate on ice cream
a helpful fantasy like, a glimmering

perhaps I'm just a Dungeness
too soft and naive all over
the point is I don't even know anymore
what my exoskeleton is doing