PALMS, METAMORPHOSED

palms, metamorphosed

By Chandni Bhatia

i turn fifteen this year.  

a transition from the years of 

board-pin-inflicted scratches, 

ink-stained algebra calculations, 

vacation-bracelet-caused blood-flow restrictions, and one

hundred and twelve experimental perfume swatches on my

seldom bare palms

(presumably) to the years of  

assignment deadlines' scribbles, 

examination hall shudders, 

and suffocating grown-up wristwatches 

on my now unrecognizable palms