Bivalvia

Day 12, poem 11

I’ve been a little stuck, so I flipped through some random Wikipedia pages until I found something small to write my day 12 poem about. I might try the same for something large for yesterday.

Bivalvia
Say it. It sounds almost filthy, like some hidden place
where I could hide my tongue a while. It sounds almost
lofty, Olympian, the name of some forgotten goddess
of objects ordinary and small. Although find me
a myth that's not filthy, that doesn't require two bodies
compressed into one space, shelled in.

Molluscs have no heads but they have the sense
to dig themselves in deep for safety, to hold on
to something bigger, to survive. Hold on
to every pain, every itch, keep it deep inside
until it comes out lustrous.