In that dark garden,
With moist grass slick in dew,
There’s that pearl,
Not the one slick in seawater,
Not one that waited in the ruffled, twisted,
Sand flecked; salt touched oysters.
It’s just a pearl.
Rounded- ish
Iridescent enough to reflect teary eyes,
Warping white,
Heavy breaths can’t you see?
Quiet; it’s special in this heart.