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.