Each grain of sand a broken heart saved by Davy Jones to insulate his locker. The melancholic melody protected in the Seas of the fallen. Soldiers of the depths collecting pain as I collect the tiny shards of green glass beaten and worn down by pain until it is spat back ashore, smooth and frosted. I ponder as I search the tiny piece of glass, how much heart ache did it take before it reemerged as this tiny slice of beautiful perfection.
Karen Hayward ©2016