I gaily stomped my Blundstones through the snow after lecture, headed swiftly back to my dorm.
All bundled up in my dad's green crewneck and my new railroad-stripe overalls and the first beanie I'd ever crocheted
Iced lavender latte in one hand, key card in the other, and my earbuds chanting Chappell.
I held the door for the girl behind me a little ways
and she blushed
I walked away smiling to myself at this little femininomenon,
drank the rest of my coffee down, and curled up in my bed to write a love letter I knew I'd never send
musing over the phrase "chivalry is dead"
feeling pity for whosever grandmother first spoke those words
she must have never met a lesbian.