Today, it returned while I was brushing my teeth,

meandered across my face for a minute and a half;

it disappeared again

until the next time my lips decide they are strong enough

to part in more than a grimace.

It never appears for pictures.

My face sags like I have weights hanging from my nostrils

and the bags under my eyes change from two little lines

to change purses jingling with silver booty.

My nose and cheeks snarl.

I can scarcely show my bottom teeth before,

"What's wrong with you?"

I always look pained

or unwilling  or drunk  or tired

and ugly.

I tried to keep my mouth in a straight line

and look serious  sexy   inviting.

1980s supermodels didn't smile;

I thought I could get away with it; but then,

"Smile already."

My sorority sister once told me to stay out of her pictures:

"You always ruin them;

You make such ugly faces."

One day, I got the bright idea of covering my mouth,

but you cannot always turn a portrait into a candid.

And I tried looking away,

but the DMV and passport people said that was unacceptable.

Now, according to the state of California and the federal government,

I look like a bad attitude.

 

I remember the last time:

It was eighth grade picture day.

The trouble with my muscles had just started,

only I didn't know what it was;

so, I hobbled around. Then, I had

my turn in front of the lights in the auditorium.

I turned my head over

to the left chin up  shoulders down  eyes on the camera

and, just like that,

wattage of my front teeth:

awkward, pre-teen and mischievous.

Therí Pickens received her undergraduate degree in Comparative Literature from Princeton University. Currently, she is a doctoral candidate at U.C.L.A. in the department of Comparative Literature who also teaches at the University of Phoenix. Her dissertation explores posthumanism in Arab American and African American literature. She has published several book reviews and has a forthcoming article in both the Blackness and Disability volume from Lit Verlag and the peer-reviewed journal, Al Raida. She is also a published poet, having had her work included in "Black Renaissance Noire."

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