Fascination Number Nine Poem by Shelby Barker

It is the purest droplet in the ocean;
a sweet, unparalleled sound it makes
as it falls from the sky and remains uncontaminated.
Through the sifting of the waves
it relaxes one as if it were all,
which it could be, even if not heard by most.
(I could hear it having never been to the coast…)
It is the specific squeal of tires
in the heart of the city, it is the pulse
which one other heart beats to.
Could I just ask you
to speak your every thought out loud?
It’d be worth it to drown
with pleased ears and a soothed soul.