What You Do Alone

The stone is half the size it was.

I don't remember when I bought it.

It's just been there, the same gray oval,

in the same spot. I've ground it

down into myself over years—

heel, arch, the rough edge of the sole—

and rinsed the gray residue off

the shower floor in slow pale scrolls

toward the drain.

This morning I picked it up and weighed

it. Noticed. Put it back.

Did the rest of what I do. Stayed

under the water until it cooled.

Toweled off. Left the stone where it sat.

Half gone. Still enough to work with.

I don't know what to do with that.