with black, with white, with used to be white,
with few miles on carpet, with tumbleweeds of dust filled
brown hair, with a trim every six months. with pepto-bismol,
with grandpa’s stethoscope, with a bottle
of rumchata, with hazy memories of last night, with a full
face of make-up. with thirty-six ddd, with gender,
with romance, with sandalwood, with eponine in the rain.
with obsessive, with compulsive, with disorder.
frustration, stress, hope.
with acceptance, with freshly plucked
eyebrows, with forehead kisses. as fourth cousins,
as pisces, as killian jones. with sandy ankles,
with high-waisted jeans, with left leg falling asleep, with
insomnia. with thinking, with over-thinking,
with remembering, with small gold hoops on the first day of
school, with samantha the american girl doll, with toys
used when feeling lonely. with swiping left,
with a closed mouth smile, with two
different ears. with the same thirteen colonies,
with an inside porch, with the powerhouse of the cell, with
mitochondria. with eczema, with prescriptions at
CVS, with medicine, with confusion about the future, with fear
of being second place. with disregard, with an
order of pad see ew, with ice left from a thai iced tea.
— Elizabeth Lacey