I'm stones in her pocket

Tamara's pocket

I'm stones in her pocket
collected along the way
turned over in her pocket
for comfort and escape

whilst her mind worries
I sit in her hand covered
secret and played with
I am smooth and simple

I make a sound that pleases her
and I smell of the sea distantly
my skin reminds her of other things
in its imperfections and tales of tides

I'm stones in her pocket
that's the way it is
and the beach is full of stones
all waiting for a pocket