Kailey Tedesco

Kailey Tedesco

 

truly / madly / deeply

this – the plaza at midnight, wasp

quiet – my hands drowsy

with the pizzeria, dark as

a tiffany lamp. waiting –

my heart edges at lineage;

my family cleaves

neon. i see the shape of my own

face, accursed. my blood licks

its ghosts with a switch. me,

sleeping in grass by the sidewalks;

me browsing for curios, teeth

already in my possession.

my grandmother’s grandmother

next to me on the side street, kneeling

to pray, smiling at the house with

hair wrapped in frames. together

we know a secret; together

we whisper with no mind for

words. language sours in us like

cream –– there is no stopping

what’s to come.
Bio:
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). She is the editor-in-chief of Rag Queen Periodical and an associate editor for Luna Luna Magazine. Her manuscript Lizzie, Speak recently won White Stag Publishing’s full-length poetry contest and will be published in 2019. You can find her work in Phoebe Journal, Grimoire, American Chordata, and more.

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