I am the fisherman
who plucked you from your bed,
an oyster in its shell,
closed up against the world.

There is darkness in you,
a single grain of sand
that broke in long ago
and burrowed deep inside.

I do not know whether
you took that intruder
and sculpted it, shaped it
into a perfect pearl.

Or chose to ignore it,
denied its existence,
allowed it to remain
untreated, infected.

Let me open your cage
and take a look inside,
to see what you have made
of the blemish you’ve borne.

And if there is no pearl,
I will devour your flesh,
discard the empty shell,
and dive for another.