Maybe one day I will share Everclear and orange juice with a stranger. Perhaps it will be at a bus station or in a backyard south of Rio Grande, hell, it could be tomorrow on my smoke break by that one dumpster; the one that nobody notices because it smells like forgotten space and unwashed feet. Regardless of where it won't take much to warm the belly and cloud the chaos. Maybe a small splash into a glass would be all I need to look over at the stranger, who happily shares it with me, and say what I can't when sober. A splash for us both, so we can hear our naked thoughts and see we are the same in mind, body, and spirit. We are no different. We are but two fleshy hearts sharing forgotten space, looking for love, and finding ourselves; but as to how? That is never clear.