what was it,
      what is it—
cutting nightshades on the counter &
slicing a cherry tomato incorrectly [horizontal]
sending sticky seed onto apron onto towel
& someone calls for a berry mouse dream
as the ticket spitter spits a ticket to look
back behind me to the berry mouse dream
being given to the someone who asked
      —what is it
      where was it—
halfing a selection of english muffin
i slice the base of my index next [horizontal]
like an asymptote i thought the blade would
just kiss the latex chamber 2mm thick
covering but instead through english muffin
& glove both did my skin meet knife. for a moment,
there was a storm of red confetti.
      what was it? peaches?
      yes just a—
walk to & fro sink with soaked hands, then bandaged,
indexed fridge to line to window that i hand peaches through a singe
of pain. wipe throbbing hand on apron of seeds & blood & glove &
shit—my wallet


Skyler Arden Barnes grew up in Kansas City. She holds a BA in English & Creative Writing with a publishing concentration from University of Iowa. Her work has been featured with or is forthcoming in Eclectica Magazine, Serendipity literary journal, Fools Magazine, earthwords, among others. She resides in Iowa City, where she portions fruit for patients, perpetually, & asks them to have a good day.