II. Milkshake

it means something to walk down the bustling street in a trench coat drinking a milkshake when it’s freezing and clear and I’m not quite sure what that something is but to be in that condition is special not precious or unique but special in that not everyone can walk down the street with a chocolate milkshake in January

and nobody looks but everyone is jealous of the trench coat that can walk alone and drink his body chilly instead of heating his hands and heart but they don’t know that in his chest rests only an empty shell of fragile salty caramel that can break at any given moment and so is surrounded by a strong igloo constructed for self-preservation purposes

maybe he is the type that wishes he could be built as a tiny cup overflowing with all the life he can’t retain but in the grand picture that the red capped man has seen in the soft eye of a newborn and the glaring reflection of spectacles resting on a wrinkled nose there is a warning of the wool coats and window lights

for the skyscrapers cast shadows that blend together and it is impossible to distinguish where one shadow ends and another begins for they flow together like miserable memories of a threadbare coat and thin soled shoes so sadly worn over years of pounding pavement where the only lights come from small offices in high rises severe and cold, and each window stands for a multitude of thick woven coats and heavy boots shrouding skeletons so much more melancholy than the man below in the red cap who holds a broom and sweeps the streets with determined motions, a man not born to do such work but who does it with all his heart

when you trade the light cotton for wool and street shadows for unwavering window lights you don’t look out that window at the red caps on the streets at the patched jackets that slide through the shadows and that is a sad thing in itself for all the red caps and patched jackets can look up at the lights and sigh with all the pain of the dark valley and the joys in moments of light

in the street for an eternal moment stands the uncertain trench coat seeing in a revelation that you can’t hold your milkshake and also chill your igloo and you can’t stand atop the building and below where the lights shine too.

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