You took me to fancy dinners and watched me eat with my hands. I nodded along to your work-talk as though I knew/cared about what you were saying. Your face looks like a country club and I don’t belong in country clubs; they don’t let you eat with your hands in country clubs. I get colds when it's cold, and your nose is running. I plead guilty. It’s okay, you’ll be okay, they have soup at the country club. And you can’t eat soup with your hands.
Photo By: Kelly Balch