A QUARTERLY DEVOTED TO POEMS AND REVIEWS
In My Shelter by Erica Cameron Yesterday I walked through our apartment; the one you think you live in with me. Your slippers were there, Head folded down beside the microwave and plastic fruit. You've stapled plastic over our window. My books and slippers were cold, stacked on the ledge. I am stacking clean towels in our bathroom, anchored to products and old newspapers I pretend to read. Spending my time with towels, trying to perfect new sounds to make when I shower with you.