Wasps

An essay from the Owner

While we were having one of those tough conversations about life,

I caught a wasp wandering on a gutter. A sign of spring closing in on us.

I thought of myself as the wasp, stinging you, because you aren’t paying attention.

I didn’t want to hurt you, but I had to tell you the truth, that I am seeing something you aren’t at the moment.

Even now, you feel the numb pulp of where reality sunk into your skin,

sitting in the quiet as the words ebb through your body.

I am the wasp, and you nod, finally understanding.

*

Artwork: “Shatter” by Melissa Johns