Friday, November 4, 2011

Friend and I

I had a friend.
We dug up mini caverns
In the backyard garden and pretended
To be cavemen, with our inadequate words
And fall asleep to wake up in our beds…
Schizophrenic children, worst best friends.
Till our time came, you paraphrased your name.
I have a friend.
We chase ant trails and
Draw rude words in uncouth window mists,
Blow bubbles in wiry lanes
And chortle at soapy breaths…
When the clock strikes monsoon, and he can’t be there.
We count moon clouds,
Gather bookmarks
Curl up, legs intertwined
And humor our old friends,
With a snort and a high high five…
Then she becomes another dream…another friend.
I like purple, he likes blue,
No, we both like red, his shirt and my dirty fingers…
It’s not a birthday card,
It’s a little paperboat
With a hundred words in its multifold…
And we smile, and I blink, it’s another friendly face.
We giggle all day, lipbalm or vodka breathed
Not enough pathos to fill our heads,
Her fingers through my hair,
Our feet tiptoes through forbidden streets
A beat and our cover is blown, we dance in defeat…
When the smog ebbs, she calls herself back,
Crashed vicissitude in her footfall dies
And everyone gather to remain quiet
They hold her hand as she dials…

To a text that is sent from me to

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