The other, gold
In a too-photoshopped world, we prefer
the beauty of unfiltered friendship. We are safe
to invite each other into the dust
we’d rather hide from the world,
into the unwashed dishes, into our need.
In tiredness, tears, tatters,
no matter what, we show up.
We can overlook the mess. We can
pick up a broom or a cloth.
Maybe the golden hour picture of friendship
is illuminating what is best in each other.
We don’t need perfection, just to be seen
through the lens of what’s real, the space
to capture laughter and tears,
a trust developed over years.
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Love this, the first two stanzas especially.