the right decisions

she walks down to the front of the room.
weaving around the arrangement of desks, where students nervously await the exam they’ve been putting off.
and without speaking, or looking at me, she sits an eraser on my desk
and walks away.
the examiner looks at me.
she knows materials aren’t supposed to be swapped.
but she sees that I already had an eraser.
and instead of approaching me, she says anything.
looking down I see the cheaply traced words
and “no”.
to commemorate the many jokes she and I had that year.
the many memories.
in a class we both hated.
I guess it was a good moment for me.
I don’t really need a psychic rubber,
to confirm how much I love you.


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