Poetry: Selections from Kayleigh Cutforth

Mother Under the Dresser

crossing the threshold

nostrils assaulted with the

acrid morning must

of sweat and smoke

I try not to breathe

 

Sheets jostled

strewn across the bed

pillows abandoned I call

out your name once twice

again

 

a slice of dusty noon

light illuminates you

lying on your side

underneath the dresser

I step towards you

 

Crumpled like a pile of washing

you mumble something like -

‘Get the pastor’ or maybe

‘Get the pasta’

 

I never did work out which

tingle

you would think that after

the distressing mint tingle

episode

in the Cotswolds last summer

that I

would have learnt my lesson

but here I am

luxuriating

in warm gingerbread spice

feeling the burn

and wondering

if the definition of insanity

applies

Loaded Words

 

That time I threatened to deck you. I’m not sure why I said that. You were right to pull away from me, and I felt the distance as though it were a vast gulf between us. You were right to find better friends. And though I can’t excuse it, what I can say is this –

I was missing something significant.

Though I didn’t know what that something was at the time, I know now ***

 

You were - still are - the most beautiful human I have ever met. So, when I told you that you had no eyelashes, it was because I was drowning in an ocean of jealousy. And the only way I could fight the tide was to find something -anything -

to make you less perfect. ***

 

Funny, how we spent most of the time together, despite the fact I was dating your brother –although dating is not exactly how I’d describe it, I’m not sure I ever figured out what it was really.

Then it was over.

And even though nothing really changed, I thought about you a lot.

I think you did too.***

 

Long and lanky with missing teeth and covered in scribbles. And a leather belt with a silver skull buckle. I didn’t fancy you at all. But the laughs -

the laughs changed everything, didn’t they?***

 

About a year too late – roughly- though I can’t say for sure. I hardly knew you at all but I think we probably would’ve been wonderful.

I would’ve feasted on your mind and body -

incessantly.

Kayleigh Cutforth has a BA in English Literature and Creative Writing and is about to embark on a Publishing MA at The London College of Communication. She has a number of publications and an impressive rejection pile. She is the editor of literary journal MONO.