In my Calculus class, a girl sat at the desk in front of me.
She wore a beautiful necklace; I had never seen one so clear.
A thin white wisp, spiraling so delicately,
lay in center of the crystal heart.
"I like your necklace," I told her.
She turned around, and smiled at me.
"Thank you," she replied.
"It holds my father's ashed."