I hold Char’s spine together
waiting on a 32 oz water bottle
and a bag of goldfish, caved into
the first bathroom stall when she starts
speaking Spanish, she’s so sweet when she’s
like this.
Glitter on her eyelids makes its way to her collarbone
and to her wrist, she misses most of it
with the makeup wipes. Brushing her teeth
is a two-person job.
I read her the Spanish poems
assigned for class tomorrow
and she finally tells me
where the scar on her back
came from, she’s good at talking
when she’s like this.