& one god damned taco will cost fourteen dollars &
sometimes it’ll be worth it but tonight it will not
so you’ll drink your hunger instead & at the trendy bar
your friend will open his piccolo app & the app will say:
drink four if you’ve cried from relationship drama in the past week
& you will take four sips & everyone will laugh at the coincidence
& then it will challenge your friend to name each of your exes
& you’ll feel the alcohol burn your throat as you swallow
the last one’s name & it’s been two weeks
since you sent a text that said he’s fucking leaving me
& that same night your friends hid in the parking lot
until his car left for the last time then showed up
at your door & sometimes there’s a comfort in silence
how they knew what you needed when you couldn’t
ask for it yourself how you were crying too much
to say thank you but they knew they knew &
tonight you are four hundred miles from home
but sometimes home is just a place where you can finally
stop holding your breath & here the six of you
leaning onto each other in laughter will feel like an exhale
& the app will say everyone, bottoms up! so you’ll clink
over the center of the table & stare into your beer
before finishing it without once coming up for air
but this time it won’t feel like drowning & tomorrow
the six of you will board a bus back to virginia
& your friend will fall asleep her head slumping onto your shoulder
& as you stare at the fields zipping by your window
you too will let your eyes rest
riding the rise and fall of her breath listening
to each soft exhale & exhale
& exhale
Header photograph © Jason D. Ramsey.