Listening to Moby's 1999 Play album
alone in the theater before the show
drinking a hot cup of coffee
high school,
summer after senior year
languidly comes back
not nostalgia or regret
just contented wisps of memory-
my '85 Jeep Laredo
dark bedrooms, the hum of fans
hot and humid nights
passion and contentment
the breeze from open windows
excitment and fear
that looming spector
College-
but mostly the folly
and promise
of youth
impervious hope
cloaked in bluster
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