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.