Warm inter/face as the west’s best domain. I remember the unyielding clank of a friend playing the acoustic in the backseat, air filling with marine fragrance. On our way down the coast- we pass millions of plants in the angular crystal of sky. There’s the 5-4-1 that ends a country song. I’m wailing the pedal steel part. My feet, when this sore, belong in salt water. I remember, through increasing prisms, what it was like to have both California and a man at once, and fit of the decision to take the car down along the water’s edge, stop by to see folks at Pizza Port, hey JO’s outside kissing someone again so I buy him another Steel Reserve, two dog greeting, what only two years ago feels like just like childhood did.