My mother strokes the sand

            toward her with her palm, drawing

            the story out, then levels it

            back with the edge of her hand.

                                                All the while

                                                a ghost crab, half-hidden

                                                under a canopy of crisped

                                                sargassum, so well-camouflaged

                                                                                                it's just a blur of movement,

                                                                                                has been sidling in and out

                                                                                                its tunnel, forming identical boulders

                                                                                                of damp sand to stack

                                                                                                                                              at the entrance,

                                                                                                                                              a bulwark. The story

                                                                                                                                              is a stone she collects

                                                                                                                                              from the tideline of the past.

                                                                                                                                                                                            For years it's arrived

                                                                                                                                                                                            again and again, as if something

                                                                                                                                                                                            draws it back

                                                                                                                                                                                            to her mind, tumbles it,

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          and returns it to her tongue,

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          a sparer truth: once she hid

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          a pill bottle in her pocket,

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          and when the shop owner's

                                                                                                                                                                                            back was turned, pulled

                                                                                                                                                                                            a mystery snail off the glass

                                                                                                                                                                                            and dropped it into the vial

                                                                                                                                                                                            of water, snapping down

                                                                                                                                              the lid. When her father

                                                                                                                                              saw it in her tank, he wrapped

                                                                                                                                              her braid around his fist

                                                                                                                                              and wrenched her off her feet.

                                                                                                A new detail brightens

                                                                                                the memory's

                                                                                                aching chamber. He gave

                                                                                                her aquarium away.

                                                When she loosens her fist

                                                to let fine sugar pour

                                                through the hourglass

                                                of her hand, the crab hunches,

            A mind works this way, in secret,

            tirelessly shaping, excavating

            a refuge for the tender self. A child

            steals the power she longs to have.

            What's a snail's shell

            but a coiled tunnel.

            What's the tough door

            but a body building no.