II.

Medha Dutt

Woke up with “Cinnamon Toast Crunch”
on my tongue
and broke the jigsaw of
foot on calf, tucked under arms
spine pulled from belly
my worm wriggled out of your brain
ridges and furrows.

“I'm going (to the deli) to get Cinnamon Toast Crunch and milk and
something spritzy–” “Sprite”
“Ok I'll get you a Sprite and–”
“A big Sprite”–

It's beautiful outside
like laundry day
and we both have laundry to do
my brain needs washing
from your last. Lindsay
who I'm in a pin board competition with. 
Wedding photo booth pictures
you have pinned above my Polaroid
present to you
dressed in fur, with wine glass.

Quick run and back
to being a bed jigsaw piece–
spine clicks to sternum
foot furrow finds calf ridge and
we're richer in terms of
spritzy drinks and cereal.

Medha Dutt finds herself fixated on the seemingly mundane. She writes poems, dreams about large art projects, and recently graduated as a playwright. She lives and works in Brooklyn, New York.