Laura Villareal

If I invited you to love me

I’d tell you I’m a four-way intersection

in a town made for shooting movies
& yes, the traffic light still works.

I’d tell you my burial ground planted a home

& everything I own fits in my tear ducts.

I’d tell you even after long-term collapse

black holes go undetected.

I’d tell you my Netflix queue is trash

because some nights elongate

& I trick myself into thinking

a romcom will bore me to sleep

but I watch the whole damn movie

until, crying, I fall asleep

every. single. time.

I’d tell you I don’t think ideal love

looks anything like a romcom.

I’d tell you most people don’t know

rollie pollies are crustaceans

& ask what else people misidentify.

I’d tell you I’ve gone to museums 52 times this year,

but I only go when I’m lonely.

I’d tell you I’m not always sure

being alone is worse than

allowing someone to splinter me.

I’d tell you I’ve never

seen a relationship that wasn’t barter

or been in one that wasn’t out right robbery,

but vicarious living isn’t enough anymore.

Laura Villareal is from a tiny town in Texas with more cows than people. She earned her MFA from Rutgers University-Newark and is a VONA/Voices alum. Her writing has appeared in Breakwater Review, Apogee, Cosmonauts Avenue, and elsewhere.