If you show a Betta fish a mirror,
the piscivore flares its gills in detest.
Not for lack of self-image,
(for it ignores the decadence of
its royal blue iridescence shining blood red,
undulating fins rippling like sheets in the wind)
but instead as mere aggression
toward a perceived opposing fish,
recognizing competition in its reflection.
It doesn’t realize it is
preparing its defenses
against only itself.
Furthermore, if you show
a Betta fish a mirror
next to a rubber duck
(or a marker
or an orange
or a penny)
about five times in a row,
it will flare its gills
at the rubber duck alone.
In 5th grade, I told the girls in my class
that Amanda Hall stuffed her bra.
She did stuff her bra.
But so did I.
Dani Fruehan is a fourth-year student at Penn State University Park enrolled in a five-year BA/MA program for creative writing. Through this program, she has studied under strong and established writers, who inspire her to always write her truth. She also works as a writing tutor and as a Workshop Coordinator for the Penn State Learning Writing Center. She loves to write poetry and has been published in previous editions of Klio/Kalliope.