I passed a soldier here but somewhere else at the same time I looked behind me.
Rafters mound a warm identical.
I pleading flat unwelcome homeward there is a bird here near the three doors.
Unstarred lacework, finger-floss drip.
I cryptesthesia, wait for slightest ridge, then thicker on the steady red.
Cynthia Spencer writes and organizes readings in Milwaukee, WI. She is the author of two chapbooks, in what sequence will my parts exit (Plumberries Press, 2011) and Mercy (forthcoming, Pity Milk Press) and co-author of THERE EXISTS... (Plumberries Press, 2012) with Chelsea Tadeyeske. Her work has been published or is forthcoming in Horse Less Review, Gritty Silk, Cannot Exist, Burdock Magazine, Drupe Fruits, Humble Humdrum Cotton Frock and the Shift Freedom Newsletter.