There used to be a trinket shelf in my home of old,
an era bygone, when simple worries and easy truths
used to be the order of the day without fail!


The shelf had a glass door, it's edges sharp, hence a prohibited land to the hands of the tiny toddler I was,
I could only fathom at the treasures inside!


There was a corner in that rectangular abode which gave refuge to things out of order, the outliers with a life left behind, like a conch that still carries the sea inside!


The first time I held that conch shell
in my tiny hands, it pricked my fingers
but I was a curious creature!


My large round eyes glued onto the jagged twirls in a pale pristine white, it's skin unlike anything I had known, a softness contoured in textured stone!


My brother, the eldest in our clan of four, stood many inches taller than me, the chief with secrets learned...