the beginnings of spring

i had my first oyster at le baron rouge after the marche aligre: it was as fresh & salty as the sea in the beginnings of spring. it had cold yonic folds & pale gray ruffles. the oyster man selected a husky hoary thing, pried it open, & gave it to me with lemon all free of charge, for it was, i repeat, my first. le baron rouge was so full of sunday afternoon regulars that people were spilling onto the sidewalks, clutching their cold white wine by the stems as they delicately sipped oysters out of their shells. "how should i look?" i asked alice, for the picture. "you should look happy," said the long-haired asian man next to her. so here i am, looking happy, reverant, & excited for the bivalve mollusk i am about to cosume. i have the half-shell it was served in -- iridescent, abalonic & goblet-like -- on my shelf next to the broken corner of shell that i picked from the ocean floor while snorkelling in costa rica.