Bravery by That Girl

[cameron]

Bravery

I wake to the sound of snow
banging against the earth
so loud,
dyeing it white
trying to drown it out or bleach it clean,
like that would help.

And I walk into the kitchen wearing only one sock.
I do the usual preparations-
minus one mug this time.

Water must be boiled on the stove-
we used to be afraid of microwaves.
I guess some habits die harder than fears.

Chocolate powder: Extra scoops. And I
remember correctly: you only like a few-
crazy psycho chocolate hater.

Anyway, I dust the last bits into the mug.

Steaming water pours swirling into place,
mingling with the powder- darkening to a
sweet slippery mud.
Declining a spoon,
Reclining cross-legged on the counter,
staring at a window but not through it.

I sip. And I wonder how I’ll tell you:

I found someone who thinks I’m a very
separate person and wants to kiss me
like people kiss in movies.
You’ll probably laugh, won’t you?

After five minutes of sipping hot water,
I find the bottom of the chipped ceramic mug—
it’s always been worth it—still is.

I resolve to fall asleep tonight,
I’ll think of someone else, perhaps of him—
it doesn’t mean I don’t miss you-
but the snow was too thick.
I feel separate.
And I hope you won’t mind.

That Girl