The Things We Share
In the bathroom,
during our Spanish class,
we hid in the handicap stall together
as girls in search of themselves.
We shared sips of our drinks.
You offered me your cup, as I offered you mine.
Our lips pressed against something
that the others had already warmed.
Neither of us would ever be thirsty with the other.
We shared our lip gloss and chapstick
when one of us had forgotten hers.
We were just being girls together
looking to feel something and
find ourselves in the midst of holding someone else.
You were my friend
and I loved you.
My lips were chapped,
but you had put the cap back on your lip gloss,
you had already stuck it into your purse.
2 thoughts on "The Things We Share"
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I sense the betrayal in this one!
A story of love and betrayal with great metaphors.