She draws the consequences
of giant robot punches
on the paper from the printer
in the stock room.
Circuitry and metal like flesh
and blood and vein falling from
a face modeled after our own.
On other days she etches out
rock stars from different eras
that didn’t exist. She wasn’t
as pleased with these since
they wound up looking like
pale imitations of the real thing.
Ever since she was a child
she imagined that maybe
these pictures were real
in some other reality.
One where her creative
decisions were taken more
seriously. Some day when
she is older and working
somewhere without any time.
She will come home one night
and on her knees dig through
her old stuff finding everything
she used to think was everything.

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