Tight Clam, by Allie Kroeper

I really wanna be just like a clam.

But not in that I’d live beneath the sea —

Mouth closed shut, speechless as I usu’ly am —

The sea is far too deep and frightens me.

I also don’t wanna be picked apart,

Eaten, by hungry tourists on the shore,

With each one digging out my mussl’d heart —

My body an image of salty gore.

I don’t want to be a clam in those ways —

I wanna hold on tight to something beau-

-tiful. Something special for all my days.

Something…well, something a whole lot like you.

My bivalve arms tight around you, my pearl,

The patterns of us an eternal swirl.

-Allie Kroeper

Featured in Vol. 3, Iss.1
Featured in Vol. 3, Iss.1