Imagining Nostalgia

I’ve been here before.
I’ve breathed this air.
Let it take 
as long 
as it is going to take
and breathe. 

I’ve tasted it before,
this air,
cinnamon and grass
ale pulled from the cask
old plasters pulled off at last
and broken scabs,
and there is salt and there is sugar
in my tears.

A giant circle,
each head laid on the next shoulder.
We are together.