Tayve Neese: At thirteen

Mariah had two thin arms.

Mariah grew like a globe




until the world, pink and screaming, fell

from between her legs




and where she walked, the world walked with her,

both of them glowing, both of them




with gold hair like the glint

of light at the tip of a salty Atlantic crest.




I still see her moving through crowds

at the farmer’s market or near the sea,




her hair a beacon until she turns,

and I see that it isn’t Mariah




until I remember that she left earth

while listening to the lullaby of a needle.




Oh, Mariah, my life is now an apology

for how I forgot you, and let the tide




of my own life take me out to sea

when I knew that you needed me.

.


Let my last years here on earth

be the work of a sieve in which




I find fiercely shaped children, singular

and lost like shark’s teeth upon the shore.

Tayve Neese is the author of Blood to Fruit (David Brooks, 2015) and the editor of Trio House Press and The Banyan Review.