In the school’s out sun
Suspended inches from deathrot dirt
And the deep smell of true life
I uncoil my toes to permit
Dry breeze of unknown origin
The pleasure of cooling secret spaces on my feet
Some inner sommelier
Uncorks a bottle of sensation
Aged perhaps 10
Perhaps 12 years
And, unwilling yet unresistant,
I am in back of van, highway 285, beer in hand
Sun on beachless sand
Blinds my inner eye as cut grass swaps woodsmoke
Preserved for a decade in organic code
Does heartbreak taste sweeter
The second time around
Or did they just rebrand what I knew as hope?