It’s been six months. You’re still gone.
Apart has become normal
even to us. Absence is absence, but we get on.
We’re fine, we’re Good.
We speak rarely, but feel every day.
Maybe that’s why the silence.
Words are too articulate—
they make things real.
I’ve been drawing, writing, living.
Past is past.
I’m good at being adrift, anyway.
After awhile I like it.
I learn new words, songs. languages.
I like learning new things. I get lost.
I like getting lost.
But then I remember before.
We were both lost, but it was different
New songs are more fun to hear together,
like learning new words
to use against each other—
swords, foils— fencing.
Still. I like the espionage.
What’s one to do?
Reality is brittle and unyielding.
It’s my only grudge, and I’m Scorpio.
It’s the Why behind my answer: artist.
(I’ll make other-real things,
things of yielding shifting heartbeat beauty)
Anyway. Adventures await,
Now, and next visit.
We’ll spend so much time
that we drive each another mental
Then apologize, half-heartedly
wishing for alone time.
’til you get on the plane.
Then we’ll start planning
your next visit
or your Phoenix return.
(For Z—) #friendship #besties! #oldstick