permanent records by cinthya hernandez

I dont know if permanent records are real or the things I would find on mines or yours if the secrets you forgot you had or the ones ignored mattered because the past has a way of reminding you of the missing pieces and tracing your steps to where it all began to the first time I showed my pierced belly button to a girl because she had caramel eyes heavy with eyeliner and eyelashes that looked like a black widows feet her front teeth crashed into each other and her lips reminded me of a pomegranate sunset she was taller than me and when she held me I felt cradled with warmth because my house was white with green molding and broken windows she said she felt the same way about her home except that it was the washed out green carpet that felt too itchy on her skin that made her feel like she didnt belong we held each other longer and ditched class though I never got to see her apartment where she sat to read in the living room floor or the color of her bedroom walls I only dreamt about it just liked I dreamt of  swallowing her whole like a peeled grapefruit devouring every inch of her until her pulp wedged in between my teeth I dont remember the day she morphed into nothing I asked my mom if she would still love me if I liked girls she looked at the blue tile in the bathroom floor youre a dyke she asked I said no I just remember when I turned 16 I cried and thought about her even though I hadnt seen her for over 2 years these are the things no one can find in a manila folder with my name on it yet they feel more permanent than the time I cheated in mr langleys biology test