IT WILL TAKE SEVEN YEARS TO DIGEST THIS POEM by Nix Carlson

IT WILL TAKE SEVEN YEARS TO DIGEST THIS POEM

which, coincidentally, is how long they say it takes to replace every cell in your body. of

course, whoever spits that pseudoscience across the internet forgets that our neurons stay 

with us for life. which is to say that you are born with every thought you’ll ever have 

already inside you. it only takes a month or so for the cells of our skin to slough off with 

the weight of past mistakes. it’s been about as long since you’ve touched me – wrapped 

your fingers around my hips, darted your tongue between my thighs, sighed my name like

i was damning you (because i was, wasn’t i?). already my skin’s mistakes do not 

know yours. still, your hands wrap around my brain like a vise. i swallow some pills to dull

the ache, but they expired about the same time your heart did (hearts don’t live very long 

– they splinter like fiber glass rather than die like tissue). you are still burned across my 

mind, the crackle between synapses. i used to think of farmer’s market tomatoes, 

rainbows dancing on the floor, the way my poems sound rolling off my tongue. now, it is 

only you and your orange crepes, your winding smoke trails, the way your name sounds 

dripping from my mouth. you will echo through my body long after you’ve digested the 

contents of this poem.