In a novel about best friends found.
We’re standing side by side
In a hallway that stretches out behind us,
Its gloom slit with long fluorescent lights.
Sunglasses hold back your long, auburn hair,
And strings from a baby blue halter fall
Like the boys, for your ample breasts.
Our slender arms touch just below your shoulder,
And though we both smile, yours seems sweeter
And most pleasing against your caramel skin.
I hear you’ve met with success since,
And I hope you held it true.
With your ear to the devil, it would be hard,
But I hope you didn’t self-sabotage, And
I hope you’ve learned faithfulness.
Yes, he told me about it.
I knew you sold it; But
I chalked that up to the historical abuse:
Wrongs which forced your mom to leave a man she loved,
And which kept her close to angry, day in and day out.
Yet, selling it, I understood.
The risk, and the reward, you needed.
How badly you wanted others to crave you,
That I never knew while believing in you.
Then came the lies, and the defensive apologies;
The lies, and you blaming me to become blame-free.
Each cut, as you’d intended, cutting regularly
Until you cut yourself right out of my life.
I should rip up the picture,
But we had so much fun that night.