I am sitting at my desk,
Cool and collected.
Completely cool.
Collected!
In fact, I am sitting at my desk
Cold, sparkling
Scalp like a fingertip on ice
Bells toward the wind
High on this mountaintop.
My legs aren’t closed so tight
It hurts.
My hips don’t twist in this chair
When nobody is looking, and no,
Why would they?
Everything is parallel.
There is no overlapping of skin here,
And no snow soaking deliciously into
folded layers of mud
Or sky.
I am sitting at my desk.
Cool.
Collected.
How are you?