Utilize an image, write an epistolary poem that incorporates at least four elements of six suggested (see Day Seventeen link for the complete list; I have chosen: 2) a historical fact, 3) an oddball adjective-noun combination (like red grass or loud silence), 4) a fruit, and 6) a measure of distance). This is the plan at least – let’s see how I do.
There is a Euclidean spin to your spiral that evokes miles out of inches in its swoop, a sexiness despite the fact you’re carried around by somewhat semi-sentient goop.
You make travel easier than pioneers had it crossing the American Frontier for fortune and freedom to Utah, your soft strength that fends off savage attacks of ants: as durable as a coconut, an indelible cocoon cradling me.
Without you, dear Shell, I’d be something else entirely, a shadow of myself, more slug than sluggish. You make me stronger than I otherwise have a right to be: how fortunate I am to have you grafted onto me.