Natalye Childress




when i was a child, we had a puzzle 
with 50 pieces, one for each state.
i used to study each section, tracing its

outline with my fingertips, my thumb and
index finger gripping the edges and
traveling along their manufactured borders.

nearly every state had a symbol: the
golden gate for california, a longhorn 
for texas, a peach for georgia.

your state felt like an afterthought,
the way its lines ran jagged. the way 
it seemed to fill up leftover space.

six-year-old me held that purple piece of 
maryland in her hand, wondering 
why it’s shaped the way it is.

no room for a symbol, with the liberty
bell above, the capitol below, and 
any potential real estate used up.

now that i’m older, my son has the 
same puzzle. he fits the pieces 
together without a second thought.

while he works on the northeast corner,
joining new hampshire and maine, i hold the 
panhandle that now holds you. and i

hesitate before handing it — handing you
— over to be slotted somewhere between 
the appalachians and the chesapeake bay.





Natalye Childress (she/her) is a Berlin-based editor, writer, and translator. She has an MA in creative writing, and her first book, The Aftermath of Forever, was published by Microcosm Publishing. Find her at https://www.natalye.com.