This piece was originally published in Quarto’s 2022 Spring Print.
Illustration by Watson Frank
Content warning for violence
Ten years ago, the girl you loved
stuck her head between the iron bars that loop
around the playground and she screamed
so hard she bit her tongue,
and second graders love blood
so we watched with bright eyes as the firefighters
and policemen and god and public safety
pried out her small skull.
The girl you loved used to eat Jell-o
off the damp linoleum cafeteria floor and tell you
you were her second best friend, after Rachel.
She used to kiss her elbow to prove she was a fairy
while you were left puckering into the air.
Playing Horse, she held you
by the hair and yanked like leather reins
sprouted from your scalp. Giddiup!
After the Greek unit in history,
she was always the daughter of Athena
and you were Medusa.
The girl you loved was so mean
to worms on the playground after the rain,
and this is where you drew the line:
you refused watch their pink bodies writhe,
like furious tongues cut loose. You would not
hold them down as she sliced
their smooth stomachs open
with safety pins.
Sylvi Stein (she/her) is a sophomore in Columbia College majoring in art history and creative writing. She enjoys long walks on the beach and clichés.