so lauren noticed my fiery eyes when i pick up a book, any book really, she said to me, “annika, i think you like books more than sculpture.” i squinted my eyes at her and stuck my nose back into the glossy pages of the manuscript containing all anyone would want to know about wood and carving … i am beginning to think how difficult it will be for people to know me again … i don’t know if i want them to, i am afraid what they will find, a breach beneath the surface i have sewn so delicately to hide, like pushing back cloth from bare skin, an ache as deep as adam’s hand uncurling at my navel and sliding down … so ambivalent, i back away but want it there all the same … know it is only a matter of time …

and still i try not to care so much, light myself afire and let it go like paper in the breathing wind, weight and lightness so interchangeable these days …

….

after my group read my essay on rodent evolution, some asshole in my biology class raised his hand to spout some useless words of messy intent: “did you wear out your thesaurus yet?”

ha, dickhead, no thesaurus used … people are so possessive of articulate knowledge … licking off your mental frosting whenever they get a whiff of something sweeter than their own …