If it were socially acceptable I would crawl underneath the table to my right and lie down and think.
I would think as if I were in a cabin, and I would be that way right now.
I would think that being in a cabin is a nice and good thing and feel good for knowing that and feeling that way.
I would think that the snow outside is like the snow outside my cabin, and inside here, I am under this table and there are other people’s legs and they remind me of my parents or my cousins or aunts uncles and dogs.
There’s an attic and I go in there and its red and dark and broken and its always been there and it will always be there.
When I go inside there’s a trunk of stuff for me to look through so I can act disinterested;
it’s not cold, but it’s not especially comfortable
and Amanda used to be here,
and I used to be here,
and now I see only
outside the window.