bury me in this wed me in this dance with me in this and for what?
each allegation goes on smooth and changes with every costume
my cloak slips meanwhile, in the garderobe
the heaviest bird is stilled it was just a guest pillow a guest light
our throats open to another era like fool’s colour like breakable only softer
half in half in
where will we wear our many hearts?
I choose to travel in and out of everybody and slip back into the cloak
I wore to come here but the lip doesn’t fit anywhere anymore
button holes so aberrant fingers slipped through instead of the silver needle
we can see faces only if they look at us, says Berger
we can make artificial mountains recalcitrant humour me
the tag does it’s at least a place to put a signature package of decibels
a slow fray a grey flag a boat in the round
Veronica Martin is a poet, writer and photographer based in Portland, Oregon.
Poppy Skelley is a UK based illustrator and graduate of the Cambridge School of Art.