i saw the potter

“i saw the potter at his wheel” says jeremiah

speeding on the highway in the wet and cold, i’ve
between hope and loneliness with
all the songs on replay i have never finished listening

& he wets the clay, hands dripping with my tears,
face close to mine,
but he is gentle—

this is
what i love him for & what he does exactly,
i don’t know

in another life,
i cook spaghetti in the kitchen, the evening
blends into me,
salty steam between the dark and i
search my skin for fingerprints—

they’re everywhere

(claudia takes the world and puts it into a poem… she weaves the divine into words, and i always walk away from her prose feeling like i’ve just struck gold. please visit her here, friends)