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 Grimoire, Phoebe Journal, Sugar House Review, American Chordata, and more. For further information, please visit kaileytedesco.com.