spilled salt by Natalia Queenan

bite the inside of my

cheek to taste the blood

run my tongue over

and over the sore

tender as i chew

the doctor said my iron

is too low, dangerous even

though i didn’t ask

so i swallowed a rusty nail

no wait i don’t do that anymore

love in me slides

honey slow through spread

fingers except the worst

parts stick together

drying, flaking, heavy

i bet your mother still

likes me best even if

you hate my guts

do you want to slurp them up?

no wait this is not that kind of poem

i meant to say—

collectively i am no one

assembled parts, not a whole

a hole, maybe, or several

strung together like empty eyes

a fishing net cast into salty red seas

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Natalia Queenan tries very hard not to write but does it anyway. She studied neuroscience and English at Barnard college and knows very little. She is @fakenutelIa on Twitter