I think I was sitting shotgun
beside the girl with the leg hair and the dance moves,
listening to a song I wished I knew the name of.
It may have been the killers or maybe the 1975
but to be honest, it didn’t matter.
I had these friends by the hour,
and I knew which one was theirs.
We explored the city and the parts
of each other’s minds that had yet to leak from our lips.
We wandered along the Mississippi, and clinked
our raw clams with horseradish.
That was the night the stars were hung
in Baton Rouge
and I realized that people can feel
the way coffee tastes.
Like silk in my veins
Like a new day, the beginning