Two IPAs in
and I can feel again

All of the ache
and anger
and desperation
that have calcified my heart
and grafted to my bones
so I move like nothing
inside me is broken
melt and surge from my eyes and mouth

You should be walking toward me now
longnecks in each hand
to celebrate the improbability of finding each other
with late-afternoon buzzed lovemaking in this sun-warmed grass 
in our farm’s field

But three bottles in
and I have rendered myself sober

I sprawl in the grass above you,
so many feet of dirt between us,
and wait for the rocks poking my skin
to harden my insides again