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Earth Science, 2nd period

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You’re not a rebel girl
this isn’t a surly, black world
you skin isn’t burning
your sweat is only
water and salt,
just like your tears,
you might as well be sweating
from your eyes,
crying from
your armpits

Think you’ve figured out
where the memories go
once you’ve lost them to the grinding
passage of time,
like clockwork
and shadow oiled gears
gaps between the machinery,

They go where stars and galaxies form
reduced to hydrogen
God’s clay
if my thoughts are a paste
then this desk
is a canvas
painted with my past.





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