Hot & Heavy w/ Lab Equipment
ENGL 217 Elora Apantaku November 12, 2007
I reach for you, top shelf, behind locked glass doors,
You were crafted in Italy, I can tell, when I heat you and you don’t shatter to shards.
I should’ve grabbed the sparklighter in the drawer, but we’re doing chemicals: phenolphthalein—
C-twenty, H-fourteen, O-how I stare through goggled eyes across granite, “God you’re gorgeous”.
The stimulus snaps facial capillaries, face proposing a pinkish hue
like the sodium hydroxide solution we’re mixing when the pH goes past 8.2
Do you taste like what you are, (slowly turning to water as we mix?)
Or what you look like? (the pomegranate of potassium permanganate)
I won’t know much else, when the labs are completed and due, than silver nitrate,
photography dust, etched blue these hands trying to measure every OH- within you.
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