You’re a crab.

Look, I figured it out–

you’re not drab

but maybe a blue-backed,

uncracked

crab.

You’ve got claws.

You’ve got weapons

at your disposal–

but you think you know it all.

And yet,

in the same breath,

you put yourself down.

No matter how strong

the ground is

you can drill yourself deep.

And I look at you and think:

What a crab.

Maybe like those little white

ones that scuttle across the sand

and dig down

by themselves and only come up

because of the sea.

The overwhelming waves

that we both know you see

coming and yet

you either:

don’t move

dig deeper.

You initially seemed closed off

and your shell was hard

to get through.

But I think I did it.

You’re a crab,

you might be difficult

to open up,

but you’re a specialty

if I’ve ever seen one.