MY NAME IS LOVE AND I’M AN AMPUTEE
you left in a hurry.
instead of a box of your cds
or your jacket or a sock
i hand you my wrist,
my collar bone.
i cut my palm to make lines
like yours to replace what is
i’m dizzy. i’m dizzy all the time.
i take in the breath you left behind
stash it under my tongue—
suck on your toothbrush
like a man and his dip
spitting onto the road leaving it
i’m spinning. i keep on spinning.
i try to string body parts closer
tooth by tooth
footsteps by shoelace
toe by toe stitched together
like candy necklaces
and i try to keep it
but i will never stop spinning.
at some point things become out
of order, some might say, outgrown.
we no longer align.
i hand you what i’ve saved for last—
one final hope
one final vein leading
to my brain.
Why do you like to write poetry?
Rylee McNiff: “Because when it rains on the 4th of July but you still light sparklers on the porch while your dad reads a James Patterson novel.”