Riley welch is a poet from texas living in Denver. She posts three original poems a week. 

Spiraling, like a top, or maybe like the phone cord

Curled at your fingertips,
like while we talk on the phone
like while you talk on the phone

Who are you talking to?

You just talked to them last week.

Why? Why?

Why spiraling down like if a tree grew like a staircase
like if my hands washed themselves in milk trying to cleanse
away anything I could
but I can’t

but I don’t think I can.

I am so, so lost.


Silent Again