They made castles from coquinas here,
building on broken bodies, order from disorder.
We collect shells that connote something
We misunderstand. They weren’t dead until we held them.
The computer rewrites each word.
It turns coquina into conquistador, victor.
means the content was never content. Neither am I.
You are complicit in this violence.
You have opened them up and pretended not to hear.
She understands their desperation.
Each holds on, holds on to the shell she holds in her hand.