In this prose poem, I conflate my favorite part of speech — the preposition — with my osteoarthritis, which I inherited from my mother. As an arthritic English teacher, I have come to see my knees, shoulders, and elbows as the prepositions of my body. Just as prepositions serve as relationship words, so too do my aching joints connect me to my mother, genetically and beyond.

Candice M. Kelsey [she/her] is a poet, essayist, and educator living in both Los Angeles and Georgia. A finalist for a Best Microfiction 2023, she is the author of six books with another forthcoming. She mentors an incarcerated writer through PEN America and reads for The Los Angeles Review.

W: candicemkelseypoet.com