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Chaos Theory MAG
Carolyn says she believes in angels
 while mascara spiders creep thickly along the
 heavy baggage beneath her eyes like the
 black pitch of the school hallways at night or
 the charcoal that she dips her fingernails in and I
 remember cheating on my math test that morning
 So
 I tell her I believe in people.
 
 Roasted honey nut, the color she was born with but
 you really wouldn’t know it because of the midnight L’Oréal
 she chooses, tragically highlighted with Punk Pink or
 Raging Red from a bottle and 15
 minutes of waiting –
 It spills limply over her black eyes whenever she leans down to write and
 Carolyn says she believes in fate.
 
 In planets aligning in the universe and
 Feng shui that keeps mice away and prevents ulcers but also
 makes a girl fall in love with a boy but
 I know all about chemistry and hormones and catalysts so I
 think I believe in science.
 
 In reincarnation, she thinks she’ll come back as a bird
 Or maybe a peacock and I say I agree when I
 see those striped stockings that come to her knees and
 neon earrings lifeless at her shoulders but she only laughs …
 tells me I never really see her and to
 call her later.
 
 Now with the dial tone in my ear
 the cold trembling and I’m suffocating on nothing
 because I really see her and I
 know she believes in the afterlife but
 she doesn’t believe in laughter and
 the phone just rings and rings and rings …
 
 Carolyn said she believed in angels.

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