I invent another body
I invent a gold collar
I invent a gumball sidewalk.
I invent a world where your
almond butter is on my
shelf, lit up all night
in some fluke of electric nature
that we’ll never know about. Because
when we open the refrigerator
the light will be on. And when we close it
the light will be on. Sealed,
we’d believe it off, but that’s just not
a knowledge we’re allowed.
It’s not a darkness
meant for the already
eaten.
I invent a mirror in an empty booth.
I invent a charge of pinned down quarters
and cut off shirtsleeves
I invent a new currency:
leaded glass expensive
geranium sad.
Veronica Martin is a poet, writer and photographer based in Portland, Oregon.
Alicia Meseguer is a graphic designer and collage artist based in Spain.