Bivalve
by Hanae Livingston
One day I woke up a mussel.
I fell asleep between twin sheets
and awoke within twin shells,
anchored to a dock in the water.
I don’t remember how long ago
I became like this, but now
the only life I know is marine.
When the tide is high,
my adductor muscles relax
and I breathe in to pass the world
through my gills. When the water
recedes, I close up tight
so that I might not lose myself
to the windy emptiness engulfing me.
About the Author
Hanae Livingston is a Japaese-American graduate student at Washington State University, Vancouver, where she is currently pursuing a master’s degree in secondary education. She immigrated with her family to the Pacific Northwest in 1999, where she grew up swimming and scampering along the wooded coast. As an undergrad, she was a writer for The Odyssey Online through Western Washington University. When she has the time, Hanae likes to write poetry, draw, go hiking, and practice karate with her family.