a love letter to my best friend
she finds the middle of me
parting my hair into an even
two. the white line of my skull defining
as she pulls each long blonde strand
aside. we joke about an old friend’s
past while her soft pearly fingers
twist against my heavy head. not even
my mother knew how to braid. only
ballerina buns, pulled tight, straining skin
with bobby pins, an old script
useless in holding any wildness back. though
with her, there is always play anchored in
our bellies, laughing together since we were
eighteen. so i sit cross-legged like a child
wanting love although it is so freely given. she smiles
says, “sure, anytime”. i pass her the hair tie
this time and another time, time and time again.
2 thoughts on "a love letter to my best friend"
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Love this simple act of braiding hair, history, and friendship.
Favorite line:
an old script
useless in holding any wildness back
You had me at “she finds the middle of me” What a gorgeous portrait of friendship