Kate

the last time i was on manhattan

your fingers rubbed arnica over me.

with gentle compassion

your eyes stared into my skull,

with fierce protection

your wine numbed our shock

with soothing tannins.

with stained skin and bones scarred

i carried the silence too long

and you let me speak.

we have always let each other speak.

for twenty years 

through first loves, first heartbreaks

first highs, first depressions

first babies, first albums 

first homes, first deaths

first careers, first breakdowns

first acts, first curtain calls

first firsts and more firsts. 

i have always felt heard,

i have always heard you.

we have been young on highways,

shouting at the wind with pink lungs.

we have been older on desert mountains,

starving for oxygen and solace.

in this moment, 

i'm looking at you across a rooftop that overlooks Manhattan.

there will always be distance.

but we are survivors.

this friendship is prolific.