Sure lines

With these borrowed

hands, I preen and I prod, poking

this vessel,

taking exploratory measure-

ments

only I can comfortably make.

They do not fit-

together.

Fingers, tendrils, palms, 

veins; grasping, touching

or holding.

Yet I know I need them

as is.

This is why I collect the seashells

at the shoreline,

we may never fit in

as beautifully

as when we are ejected

from the abyss 

we thought we knew

as Home. 

Painting by John Morgan (1823-1885), 'A girl with a seashell' in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.