Snow falls outside
the library lights go out as we walk out into it
study dates are a bit of an oxymoron aren’t they?
somehow simultaneously less date than study
less study than date
they’re the sort of thing
that leave you with more questions than answers
from calculus to what exactly was meant
we walk to my dorm
under lamp posts
and the ever present snow
a hug good-bye,
“goodnight,”
and he walks away
the snow falls more rapidly
we both turn back as if waiting
I swear I attend school in Narnia under the reign of the white witch