work. > poetry.

You Say the Owl Hunts in Two

Once, I was half of one face.
A pair of owls twisted

the twine of air between a pair
of beak that pierced the dark.

The owls twisted the wind into twine.
Their beaks pricked the night.

Pricked the one black dark into a hole
with the knifepoint edge of the moon.

Once, I was one half of two faces.
Me: a flat round stone.

She: a long hard-boiled egg.
Us: Obsidian glass.

You say the owl hunts in two.
You say the owl

rests on a tree branch, picks up
the sound of its prey.

The ancient Germans formed
the word twine, meaning twin.

we looked at each,

we watched—the owls twisted
a piece of air

like strands
curling round our mouth.