she thought nothing
of the *****
shaped
bar
of soap, and nothing
of the boys
who’d no doubt
worked together

in close
quarters

to create
from their
gods
the ball
god

dropped, and still

nothing

of the note
in her locker  
instructing her
on how
to take

a bath-  not everything

takes the form
of a sickly
double
afraid
to meet
its match