Sometimes you learn from others’ misfortune;
sometimes you learn from others’ experience.
Eventually, you will know the difference.

The night comes easily, like a three-year long conversation
but familiarity can’t convert what is magical:
a baseball field stunned by lightning bugs.

And then two glasses of white wine
which gift you with fruit and easy tongues.
It’s a night you didn’t know you were waiting for,

just as you say the name you haven’t felt
comfortable breathing so often – but for now.
Experience pours out two healthy glasses

of sweetness, of rancor, of opposition,
and your mouth studies these, tasting
the fruit of struggle.