chrysalis sweat / burial ground

Kailey Tedesco



there is death in the other room. one apartment over

and to the right. it turned the walls mold-black


for exactly thirty seconds & then swallowed 

the nearest heart. it was not mine, not 


yet. there is a knowing inside the rings i

wear upon my fingers. they glow at death


like static cling. i am dancing on a cellar

of grave soil, pet cemetery for a hidden 


mood. in all of this, i am only ever

what i know to be – a strawberry moon


voyeur & slipstream for the ghosts

that crowd inside my arteries. i do not


know my ancestry or the number of bodies

that will grieve me. in egypt, a jackal would 


pry my mouth for food. here i shake

the pouring of our tea & burns 


the shape of departure

smile down my fists. 




Kailey Tedesco is the author of She Used to be on a Milk Carton (April Gloaming Publishing) and These Ghosts of Mine, Siamese (Dancing Girl Press). Her manuscript entitled Lizzie, Speak recently won White Stag Publishing's full-length poetry contest. She is the editor-in-chief of Rag Queen Periodical and an associate editor for Luna Luna Magazine. Her work is featured or forthcoming in GrimoirePhoebe JournalSugar House ReviewAmerican Chordata, and more. For further information, please visit