Requiem for a Friendship

“We” have died and yet

we both go on

Living in the residues of our existences

(one with half a heart; the other with none)

Among comfortable arm chairs

And kill quietly with simple words and actions:

“Break,” “Good bye” and then the dial tone.

31 years vanish in a moment but

their impress remains

In a child’s cot

In a characteristic hand gesture

In the memory of an endearment

In a childhood poster

All destroyed except for the crease of memory.

For what?

A phone call not made, a misspoken word, a misunderstood phrase

Unknowable

Yet unforgivable —

No doubt.