Scattered Shells

By Varenya Shekhar

An ivory garland, 

Meticulously handpicked from the richest oysters, 

Its oysters seized by the throat, pried open. 

Their muffled yawps echo in the stardust, 

The patter of each drop of scarlet gold overpowers their laments. 

Their voices beg to have that same scarlet gold flowing inside their ripped hearts 

Rather than their hands dripping in it. 

The jeweled chain uncovers its reality, 

A string of irises impersonates the celestial twinkles. 

When the scarlet gold is washed away, 

Innumerable barren harvested oysters remain 

A scatter of silver in the pitch-black night, 

Lost in the sea of velvet. 

Pools of moonlight unfold stories of a thousand lives, 

Glimmering in the melancholy, as the ethereal chain emerges, 

With just the right amount of pearls harvested to obtain the utopian necklace. 

What was stolen from the broken shells now adorns the idle throats of the overfilled.

By Varenya Shekhar