it’s raining
powdered sugar.
maybe i don’t hate snow after all,
but the mess when winter is over.
Like funnel cakes. When the amusement
park closes. and your hands are sticky.
and you know the mess is proof.
proof of something sweet.
but you hate how it’s on your hands.
and the way you ate it so fast.
you’re a mess
the whole way home.
I never thought about love the same way.
Joh-Jung Writes 