The sweetest fruit

Lodged up there between the back few molars, somewhere around the ice-sensitive teeth, is a grape skin.  Stuck there since you sat down.  Burrowed between your gum and tooth.  No man's land.  A strained tongue pulls at it fruitlessly.  Stop lights turn red, radio stations air advertisements you don't hear.  Only listening to the scraping of a thumb nail in the back of your mouth.  Then, lifetimes later, a right turn, perhaps at high speed.  You straighten the wheel, shift gears, and relax.  The sweetest meal swallows down to your stomach.  The tiny little grapeskin works a smile.