wrapped in Sara's flannel tanning blanket feeling
more beautiful than I was, wearing
whatever I was wearing
cigarette smoke and fire smoke and surrogate family softness
the first-last adventure of my summertime
sitting in my lap next to my best friends.

knife in hand sloppily carving
DMC into the bark of a tipsy tree
wobbling on a wooded hill, the brand-new sensations
of brand-new sensations leaving their initials
carved into us. It rained and rained and I almost fell off Hana's balcony
talking on the phone and singing golden oldies
with our hands in our laps next to my best friends.