Rachel Logan Snyder received her MFA in Poetry from Sarah Lawrence College. Her work has most recently appeared in Word Riot, The Pedestal Magazine, and The Foundling Review. She teaches writing at SUNY Purchase College and Writopia Lab in New York.
Every night the neighbors upstairs drop it,
this low metallic plink, uneven roll
grooved across the hardwood floor.
With each fall its weight thickens
so I wait to hear it furrow
through my ceiling,
plummet straight into my rib cage
leaving a hollow in its wake.
It will slink down all
eight flights, gaining shape;
splintering bits of bone and concrete,
pickling dust along its way.
And when it reaches the bottom
full now, having shattered
through enough fragment
to become whole,
will it rejoice, or regret the view lost
of the river through the window?