KAILEY ALYSSA
your eyes
| shot wind |
| broad like bucks |
| rotund cornflower blue |
| around edges tensile strength elastic |
| between fingers |
| flowers buldge lay on batholiths |
| scoop them quietly bring them home |
your liver
| black pud forests |
| sink soft spots zip warm |
| plastic bags gooey & slick-searching |
| his half empty cereal boxes |
your lungs
| glistening & greedy |
| cradled in arms |
| quiet sponges a little sticky |
| sshhh you'll wake the baby |
your heart
| a noisy |
| thing found a chisel |
| cut it from your chest |
| placed it beating |
| bleeding in a pyrex bowl |
| of bleach you should've called |
| this a forensic countermeasure |
| no better |
| witness tampering |
your pancreas
| feels a little lonely now a little |
| lonely now a little echo of a word |
| now you left crumbs trembling |
your small intestine
| perhaps |
| you were always a disobedient child |
| & your back was always freckled |
Kailey Alyssa is a first year MFA candidate in Poetry at the University of Colorado in Boulder where she also teaches creative writing. She is previously unpublished.