I search the grocery store aisles

for honey-flavored vinegar.

A smell I always seem to hate,

but a taste I still remember.

They don’t sell it like they used to,

with a note taped to the top—

warning of side effects,

and maybe even cops.

I didn’t expect they still would,

not after all this time.

But then again, I still find myself

waiting for you each day

to come and wash off my crimes.

If you’re reading this, just know:

the stars still shine real bright.

And just because you can’t see them

doesn’t mean they’re

out of sight.