fingers crossed

three little white sticks
stark, even against the cold
white porcelain
of the dorm’s bathroom sink.

three little white sticks
like two could be wrong
or change the decision
that fate has already made.

fumbling directions
folded pieces of complication
complication of her life
of semiotics
of plus or minus,
and one line or two,
panicked breathing and
holding back tears
as she imagines prison bars
in a pink or blue room

“late, late, late,”
she whispers
praying to a god
she doesn’t believe in
as she watches the
three little sticks transform

“stupid, stupid, stupid”
she curses
with shaking hands and
fingers crossed
as she waits
for the message to be revealed.