Henrietta looked into the microscope twice
maneuvered her head three times
with varying angles
each degree slightly different from the previous
trying to peep what others thought they saw
She scribbled in her science notebook:
I don’t trust you anymore. You break promises like I break glasses on the kitchen floor.
PS We are especially doomed, because you can see what I cannot.
Henrietta looked up from her notebook, then began speaking about hair follicles.
Her science partner yelled, “This isn’t the time to talk about hair Henrietta.”
it is underneath my skin
and inside rusty tins
it is the jewels on the kitchen floor
and the leftovers from dinner are:
1) Luisa’s sweaters
3) greasy heart