CALL ME BELOVED

All my first memories
are flooded basements,
voices booming down the stairs,
arguing in the kitchen –
no clue what to do with me

The truth is I’m so lost
I could settle for you, I could
pick up after the sixth missed call
just because (at least) the heft
of your bailing bucket is familiar;
these callouses fit, help
the nightmares make sense.
Sometimes I think yes,
I could pour enough
of myself out
to keep us afloat,
our lifeboat to nowhere

These hands aren’t good
for much else – but then
it’d be just you and me,
and when the rations ran out
believe me, this time around
I’d devour you, first