In a half shell

Your salty kiss —

My fingers traipse across your ribbed, sharp exterior. Cradling your rough edges, I admire your plump figure as you wade in your own merroir.

Your waters — 
A taste that will soon linger on my tongue. Sweeping you beneath my nose, I breathe in your scent — a delicate, mineral breeze. Resting on my lower lip, a quick sip to drink you in before gently sinking my teeth into you. Slight pressure, just enough to persuade your creamy release. Swallowing you whole, savouring your intoxicating brine. I turn your unique vessel over, while I reach for yet another…

What am I?