Cold One

Even as I am just finishing rinsing out the last
and preparing to recycle its container,

I have to catch myself before I head directly to
grab another. Something about the flavor, the way

something so cool and wet can still taste so burnt -
roasted and charred, simultaneously making an argument

for sweetness. It's not an issue if you savor and enjoy,
but enjoyment without savoring is what separates

the connoisseurs from the users. At least that is
what my friends tend to tell me, perhaps

their need to draw distinctions overwhelms
existence without the same limits. As my thoughts

drift into quantum physics and religion and love, I
get distracted from my resolve and take a moment to watch the pour.