work

lacerate, dismantle me
lately my ideas of curdle and clot
have become obsession   i sit in bed locked
in other missives   whittle the days
old spoke, new frame

*

forgo me   whatever
ache for return
i still have is
neutralizing, baby
you’ll see

*

the ragged textures of things
consume me, i run my fingers
over ridges
warts and cysts
encumbering read

*

small fits and starts
i heard you when you said it
the first time   is it really
so wrong to maintain, how
tired i knuckle to
the crosspatterns of the same

*

misuse me
shallow breath
heightened commodity

*

softer now
can i come
home soon
just one more way
to say

Kinsey Cantrell lives in Brooklyn, NY. Her poetry is featured in Protean Magazine, SICK Magazine, Apogee Journal, Booth, Hayden’s Ferry Review, and elsewhere. She studies epidemiology and biostatistics at the City University of New York, and she writes for an indie video game. Find her online at www.kinseycantrell.com or on Twitter @kinseymads.