it’s March fourteenth and my hair is unbrushed
i used to have a friend with cream cheese hair
sour, scallion free
she drank lots of water (the recommended amount)
sharp little teeth
when she left (i knew she would)
i still thought of her
wore her shirts, wore her faces’ shapes
later i wonder
if she still wears mine
i won’t ask (isn’t likely)
later than later
she writes
asks for one of my teeth
a big one, please
(how could i write back?)
march fifteenth i send it (a big one from way back)
you’re welcome i say into
the ziplock bag (wish i had a tiny jar)
march sixteenth i worry
that it’s disintegrated somehow, rotten already
march seventeenth my tongue reaches back
to the gap where she lives
i’m sorry, i’ve lied, i’ll admit
it’s still March fourteenth and my hair is unbrushed
Sascha Nastasi-Feinburg is a high school senior, actress, and (newly) a writer from New York City. She received a Gold Key for her humor piece from the Scholastic Art and Writing Awards. In her free time, she enjoys snuggling her Pekingese, Don Corleone.
*this splendid poem was previously published in the Spring Issue of Against the Current, the literary magazine of the Professional Children’s School