It’s cold out here, but you can’t smoke inside, br though the inside glows like the br butt of my cigarette. br I can see them desperately congregated br in that light bulb of a room. br They suck on the bones of words br in their textbooks, br licking the pages clean br while savoring the last droplets of their br $4.00 lattes. br br It’s all addictions. br br My addiction keeps me out br here in the blue cold br on the wiry metal chairs, br but I love my cigarette, coffee, and reading br time more than anything else. br Smacking my chapped mouth between sips br then taking a drag and br exhaling br as my finger bows to turn the page br and my feet rest on the table before me, br that’s comfort.