Published in fishladder 2021

How are you supposed to sit 
in 6th grade history class?
You’ve forgotten completely.

One leg is bent behind the other, your 
head resting in your sweaty right hand. 
You’re a circus performer, your shoulders 
contorted, your left knee is bouncing as 
your classmates are undoubtedly whispering 
horrific things about you to one another.

Well how are you supposed to sit?
You look to see what she’s doing.

Her legs are crossed and her arms 
folded against her chest. She sits up
straight, her shoulders in perfect 
alignment with her waist. Her hair is 
pulled up so that just the ends dance 
on her shoulders while a few full strands 
have fallen out to caress her cheeks.

You adjust yourself 
in your metal blue chair, but no matter 
what you do, the afternoon sun never bursts 
through the classroom window, sending a
spotlight to illuminate your dazzling green eyes 
the way it does for her.

You slouch down in your seat, so far that you 
sink to the ground. As you fall further and further 
into the world beneath you, you can’t help but 
pray to God that she would extend her hand,
pull you out, 
and finally tell you how she does it.