They smell like a steam, stale
and smoky; hardly wet at all because the feel in
fills more like smoke. This one has a face.
This one has a face!
It's a smiling curvature of squinting eyes.
and I threw the facerock onto the opposite shore—
A piece of my heart splitsunk and flew with but I never knew why.
It was a turtle, I figured a few years later—The Turtle
that taught me to smile when I am cracked.