by Millie Tullis

each december I pulled her
from boxes of christmas decor
set her beside my cd/tape player & watched

she did nothing
& still I remember her
clearer than any other piece of

childhood I remember her
smooth soft cold
coat

I heard her emptiness
when I rattled her nothing
knocked against the nothing inside of her

I tipped her upside down peered
into that hollow center
saw her

absent belly absent breath how the whole
beautiful bag of her body had been
emptied

being silent & pastless
made her more beautiful
& so I loved her

Millie Tullis is a poet and folklorist from northern Utah. Her poetry has been published in Sugar House Review, Rock & Sling, Cimarron Review, Juked, Ninth Letter, and elsewhere. She is the Editor-in-Chief of Psaltery & Lyre, an online journal pushing the borders of sacred and secular. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram @millie_tullis.