Inspired by my friend, Austin B.

It’s a gambit to get to know people.
We roll, we wait, we see, and think
Will you like me? Will we get along,
pair planted in stardust, platonic soulmates
in a desolate land enclosed between the ribcage
and constant beating to find
a friend.

Funny little word that, friend. It implies it,
the end, as if knowing is always dangerous.
It all eventually leads to heartbreak.
Either death, or worse, disconnection and disassociation
because we rolled and landed on snake eyes
difference can be the killer and creator
of the dividing line.

And yet, when I see in me what I see in you,
and kindred souls align in a matter of chance,
oh, what a life it is worth living, having known
and been known by someone with different eyes than you.
They see what you are blind to
and fill your cup with all their knowings,
the ichor of their passion, making you feel
alive again.

Passerby on the street. Eyes stop behind shop’s stained glass.
An object of loving obsession sits plainly in the daylight’s gleam.
Bell chime, bought and asked to be wrapped with care.
“Is this a gift?” No hesitation to affirm. “That’s nice of you.”
A chuckle because there’s irony there,
what knows and loves, knows and loves.
Fond smile reaches lips,
“I’m just lucky to have friends to know.”