ICE SKATES

I should get leg warmers. Ice skates haven’t changed much; white, high top, hardly affordable. Very retro. Owning ice skates is fetch; I have the very bourgeois idea to place them on my mantelpiece when I get an apartment without roommates and a mantelpiece. For now they travel via subway in a reusable grocery bag twice a month to an indoor rink. But I think they have faith in me, knowing one day they will shred real ice on a frozen lake for hours and then we’ll trough back through the woods, the air trying to freeze the slush on their blades, me hoping not to drop them in the snow, the needle in the hay. We will retreat into a cabin I have learned to  call home and a wood fire will melt the shiver in the blades and in my bones.