Riley welch is a poet from texas living in Denver. She posts three original poems a week. 

Have you thought?

If your leg was hollow,
there to be filed with food,
as is joked.

How much would it hold before it all backed up
into your stomach?

Would it ride up your leg back to your middle,
on a conveyor belt like the kind that bring your suitcase back after a long trip?

Would you get the same sinking feeling you get
when your bag doesn’t arrive?

And you’re the last one
standing there.

One quilted bag keeps going around and around,
but you know it’s not yours?