We Friends Don’t Talk Anymore

We don’t talk anymore.
Whether it’s because
you’re hiking different cliffs
followed by almost children,
or because I’m too aware
of the threat of your sex
to what I need most.
I don’t know.

But we don’t talk anymore.
I admit, I still wonder
about the path you stood by
and offered to me
with a hot mug
and bad taste in furniture,
but it doesn’t matter.
I would have taken
the same path
I’m on now.

But I won’t say,
here or otherwise,
what that says about you,
because it doesn’t.
It only says that about me.
But you don’t care.

Because we don’t talk anymore.
We’ll pass a note,
maybe a laugh, a leftover call,
but we both know what it means.
Friendship lasts forever
but love longer,
so that must conquer,
and we care about this.

So we don’t talk anymore.
I don’t know what you think,
but I think I still mourn
that nature, or my faults,
made it this way,
and that the past is a taste
swallowed, through, and gone,
to not be revisited.

But that doesn’t change
that I wish
we could talk.

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2 thoughts on “We Friends Don’t Talk Anymore

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