IT'S NOT SCARY AT ALL IT'S MOSTLY BEAUTIFUL

by ben clark and dana mckenna

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as invisible hands

take turns

 

tucking in the loose

ends of day.

 

My own,

I commit

 

to cleaning

another mess

 

I made, and told

you to leave alone.

 

Every time I sweep

there’s somehow

 

a thin skin

of sand on the floor.

 

What sort of

routine is this?

 

You dive into

the new city

 

like you already know

what lies below

 

the surface, how

deep the bottom.

 

I lick apricot jam

from a spoon,

 

sip from an

empty mug,

 

the motion what’s

most important.

 

I take three baths

a day, wonder

 

if the neighbors

can hear the faucet

 

shudder when I fill

the tub again.

 

After hours apart

you ask, want to look

 

at the lake and

just sit with me?

 

Not ready

to respond,

 

I try again

to beckon

 

both wolves

with open palms,

 

enough food

to feed us all.