Two hermit crabs face each other,
swift away vulnerable,
trying on each other’s shells.
Their bodies contour any shape
as long as it spells protection.
As a huge wave foams the tide line,
both are nudged to move. Their legs
press lightly on sand, only to
wash away the subtly prints.
Midday sun, in disbelief of
a cold exchange. This is why
we never fill another’s absence
the same way. We are houses
in constant need of shelter.