I wrote your name at the top of the page
'HI BEST FRIEND, GUESS WHAT!'
I wanted to pass it to you in French
(the other class we have together besides math)
but you don't take French, where you are now
so I crumpled it up and threw it away
(what a waste of fancy bordered writing paper)
I forget you aren't here, sometimes.

During algebra I couldn't quite grasp
Why xy equals forty-one
I turned around to ask you what it meant
(and maybe share a giggle if the teacher didn't see)
but I saw Derek (the boy who liked you);
he whispered that he liked my hair
('it looks like hers') pale woven gold
and inside I was thinking 'gold ≠ forever'
I asked him what the answer to seventy-one was
You always said I was bad at math, remember?

I waited outside school for you today
(we always walk home together)
superimposing your figure leaping down the steps
and then I walked home by myself, instead
imagining you were skipping next to me
telling me the latest off the grapevine
about dissection with Mr. Stein in biology
or at the optometrist's (your contacts itched)
you're anywhere else but next to me.

I went through my room just now, and found:
Your pleated denim skirt
A black tank top, strappy pink heels (all yours)
I let my hair down and wore them to the mall
The cheerleaders asked me to a party
I saw the bright painted plastic smiles you saw
But I laughed anyway and said I'd love to
(I wondered if you thought of them when you left)
later, they're taking me shopping
you did like to call my fashion sense abstract.

I looked into the mirror later on
I saw you looking out
Not the you in the bed wheezing and choking when
Laughing at my attempts to explain algebra to you
(you missed a lot when at chemotherapy)
but I saw the leggy full-lipped blonde goddess
before it came and took you out of my universe
I wonder, where you are now (up there?),
If they give make-up lessons on set theory
I miss you, best friend.