the cold is like gloves on my hands.
it’s not usually very cold here. it might rain one night and a cold front comes in, but it’s never cold for more than a week or so.
you see the word cold and your mind sees the color white. white like snow. it only snows here once every ten years. i wish it would snow. i want real winter. i want the cold to come and stay, i want the ground to be covered in snow. covered in white. but, i dont see white. all i can see is green.
its harder than i thought it would be.
seeing them over there
at the beginning of a new story.
i stare at the cold white worksheet and remember. “i used to wear her like a jacket.” and she was the gloves. and they were warm.