I loathe biology and Mr. Ortizs red eyes
that snake down my blouse when he says
symbiosis, how my favorite boy cousin
suddenly acts like Im poison, the rust
that appears in my lavender undies.
Then Bridget who roller-skated with me
all last summer mysteriously vanishes
from her own home, her nightgown found
in the woods by the river. I eat parsley
for lunch, celery at dinner, do 300
jumping jacks before bed, want
my chin to feel bones when I
squat in gym class, my hair
be a braid thicker than my
thighs, my newest jeans
sag off my kneecaps.
Shrink myself back
to fifth grade.