Thoughts On What Snow Tastes Like

On What Snow Tastes Like

Like middle school lunch tables after your friends have all gone to class but you’re skipping sex-ed because how many times do you have to watch the same power-point presentation about STD’s. Like your grandmother’s coffee table, the one made of glass, right before you realize your mother will yell at you because you let your chubby, ham-stained five year old fingers linger on it too long. Like opening the shower and letting the water run, then immediately closing it and staring at your own face in the bathroom mirror before you realize you have class in five minutes and you’re still naked in a room that belongs to someone else.