I am turning myself inside out for you.
One day, I hold out my spleen—here it is,
fist-sized, cupped in my hands. I do need it,
you know, for the blood cells and immunity.
Still, if you need it more, you can take it.
And since I’m in the mood to give,
let’s throw in an appendix, some tonsils,
sources of so much trouble. Maybe
they can be of some use to you.
Other days, I am opening the window
I built in my chest. Here, see my heart
and lungs. Marvel at the engine
that keeps me alive. See how
the oxygen and nutrients circulate?
Maybe, while you’re looking, you will start
to feel the thrum of blood in your own wrists,
the metronome of survival in your throat.
As I light the flame I keep inside my rib cage,
maybe you’ll feel yourself inhale sharply,
suddenly desperate to make this air
your own.
–
Patricia Davis-Muffett (she/her) holds an MFA from the University of Minnesota. Her chapbook, Alchemy of Yeast and Tears, was published in 2023. Her work has won honors including the 2024 Erskine J Poetry Prize from Smartish Pace, Best of the Net and Pushcart nominations, and appears or is forthcoming in Best American Poetry, Best New Poets and other publications.
© 2025, Patricia Davis-Muffett
Halfway Down the Stairs 