So we rent a car & drive to
the wild of Pennsylvania.
Crops tall as biblical women,
their heads flinching.
Nobody lives here, it seems.
Houses but they’re empty,
lights but they’re off.
We float to our hotel room &
polaroid in the mirror.
Swimming pool midnight,
chlorine-safe. I couldn’t
drown if I tried. We watch
static documentaries &
eat fake pizza.
That night, I dream of an
emergency & wake up alive.

Jasmine Ledesma is a twenty year old poet living in the gush of New York. She has been published a handful of times.