crab Claw

Eliot Kelly-Leftwich

When I was born, the crab claw hooked under my chin,

pried my face up towards its,

And told me that I’ll

be more than the sky I was born under.

You’ll be magnificent!

But I remember thinking

of all the ways I wasn’t.

All the ways I was just a

thought

of more.

And somehow, that’s

so distraughtly, so obscurely

human. Like that moment you

remember there is skin on your bones,

and teeth in your mouth. That

everyone sees through their own eyes

and everyone has this

thought

of more.

So maybe I should stop trying

to appease the reach of the crab,

turn my head when it places its claw

at the line of my jaw,

stop trying to

make myself ... magnificent!

And instead, recall

that there is skin on my bones,

and teeth in my mouth,

And there is always that

promise

of more.