She sits behind me
in the last row of desks
next to the windows
belly pressed hard
against melamine and a box
of stashed pencils
And books never cracked
her soft brown eyes
in a field of freckles
behind long lashes
and lanky bangs
dream of anywhere but here
When she stands
that belly protrudes
from unzipped Lees
and unbuttoned flannel
challenging every 14-year-old
eye to ogle
And wonder who
and remember how far
from here is everything
to this day
and I just realized that baby
maybe stares down 40
For Kim’s weekend prompt: PORTRAITURE
