Skin

Look toward the sun in October
and you’ll see its light everywhere
as a hazy scrim comprised of motes
soon to assemble and disappear,
as though the air knows it’s time
to pack itself together, wrapped
in its own hug or a new layer
of skin.

Before the air’s painted black
with cold, let’s go to the garden
and dig out the Yukon potatoes.
Steam will rise from the soup
and gather around our bodies
as we look out the window
and think of all the other things
we could wrap ourselves in, and wonder
if we wear each other for warmth.

Josiah Nelson is an MFA student and sessional lecturer at the University of Saskatchewan. His work has appeared in Exclaim!, the Culture Crush, spring magazine, and the Rumpus. His story "Hair, Teeth" placed third in Fractured Lit's 2021 Monsters, Mystery, and Mayhem contest. He lives in Saskatoon.