Grandmother’s angora coat,
Unruly mop flat-ironed to a frizz-free sheen,
Red nails the shade of Feisty –
Transmutation into perhaps
a close version of Brett’s ex
Now just make-believe
her brain had been eviscerated
of gneiss formations and the half-life of iridium,
her whole report on Norwegian ice floes.
It was a mawkish idea she knew.
Best friends in fourth grade
held no currency in high school.
But she stayed up till 3 am
figuring out homemade marzipan:
he adored it when he was nine.
There he stood against the lockers
with his gang.
Here she came down the hall,
slow mo, adagio, every second
felt to the core, her entire body thrumming,
marzipan tucked under her elbow.
Unbelievably, he smiled at her
And she smiled back, she thought, and began
to offer the marzipan
she saw the jouncing blue skirt and
the bright yellow pom poms splaying
and heard the shrill “Oh Brett”
of the hitherto ex.
The bitter end of her confectionary endeavors.
Written for Shawna’s Monday’ Melting prompt at rosemarymint.wordpress.com!