neptunium 

in the 7th grade
i discovered neptunium--
while other students
were breathing
helium--
their voies
laughing off
onto another 
plane-- or
shifting
for gold in the creek
behind the school--
handfuls of rocks
none of which bore
the glint of the sun--
our fathers made
batteries up
the street
in the factory
that was easily mistaken
for a city
at night when 
even the street
lamps often gave up--
all-fours
i peered under my
mattress to find the
black radioactive
rocks pulsing--
they deserved
to be harvested--
to be loved like
the plentiful elements 
with sparse electrons
in their orbitals--
fingers burned 
to bone--
i tore them free--
wrapped my
hands in gauze 
by the bathroom sink
& my mother asked 
what i was doing in
there so long with
the water running--
i said 
i'm fine 
i'm fine
i'm fine--
because everyone
in 7th grade is
fine & on the cusp
of radioactivity
that they themselves
could never know--
i felt it swelling--
gripped the sink--
watched myself in the
mirror-- oily skin
& freckles turning
into pot hots--
i tripped on 
my own mirror image--
palms sweaty--
everyone is
fine in 7th grade--
this was right before
i let myself 
break full length
mirrors-- before
the windowsill was 
a god--
i returned to 
my bunk bed--filled
my back pack--
every student
had been assigned 
one element to 
explain to the
class--
mine of course
neptunium-- 
but no one expected
us to become this
close-- i spoke to
her as i fell asleep--
learned to break
off pieces
small enough to 
swallow--
it tasted like
a cross between
black licorice &
purple rock candy--
i locked my door--
i started to 
pray to the element--
the impossible element
who had come to find
me-- out there
in the world
there was hydrogen
to be breathed--
calcium somewhere
between milk & bone--
potassium in
the ripe bananas
on the fridge
but we--
we are neptunium--
unfathomable--
born in nuclear
reactions-- holding
hands with 
bed posts &  
chubby freckled
girls like me who 
wanted to pierce
their own ears when
the time came--
like neptunium 
we too wear black
with the intention
of having
the night sky
take us back--
we too wonder 
what kind of world
would bring us 
into it only
to admit that we
in fact have
no clear use-- a 
volatile mess of
electrons &
neutrons fighting
for control
of a body--
where do you
hide your own
entropy--
do you open your
windows?
everyone 
everyone
everyone is fine
in 7th grade--
everyone has 
wadded into
the creek-- prayed
to a false god
who did at least
for a moment
understand them--
neptunium
the God of instability 
so fraught he only
manifests in
laboratories &
under the bunk beds
of young girls
on the brink
of tripping
tragically into
the growing up games
of children--
bent like a microscope
throwing up 
stone & crystal--
cutting my throat
till only blood 
still dripped from
my chapped lips
in the bathroom 
stalls--
hand sanitizer prophets 
are born here-- 
only in retrospect
can i thank
the burns on
my fingers-- the 
nights un slept
as we talked--
as she explained 
to me her body--
the way the scientists
stared into
her-- an object
of awe-- of containment--
i promised her that
i would 
never keep her
like that--
i drew her image
on a white poster
board to present in
front of class 
like anyone else
& when i came
back that afternoon 
she was gone--
i felt the cool
bare mattress 
& cried--
everyone is fine
in 7th grade
is fine
is fine
is fine