It’s like this: we show up at the restaurant,
four deep. We’re all hot. And by hot I mean
attractive. Gurls with a “u.” And by hot
I also mean we’ve been bad ass bosses
all day long. Gurlz with a “z” too.

And we order The Menu.

And we open a Tab.

And we Talk. About. Some. Shit.

And we take our shoes off. And share
plastic silverware. And too small paper
plates. Remind each other to put napkins
in our laps. And grab water halfway through
when we realize we aren’t anywhere near
hydrated. We split one snap pea four ways
and then order two more cheeseburgers
because these Gurlz be starving.
We make an inside joke out of our
entrance. And are still laughing about it
as we exit. Selfie snapped and shared, too.

This is a friendship literally built
on sharing.

We’ve shared deodorant. One peach
among six of us. Gelato samples.
One pair of pants for two of us.
A kitten between another two. Beds
among at least three of us. Car keys
daily. Each other’s cell phones as
necessary. Mom’s in the bathroom
right now! Mommmmmm!

Tinctures, solstice parties, crystals,
moss gathering, pumpkin carving,
wreath making. Too much Christmas
decorating. Dirty buckets of water.
Hot batches of dye. Risks on ladders.
Glue on our fingers. Hair in our mouths.
Smoothies in our teeth. Sun in our
eyes. Stuff on the cart. Shit in the car.

We’ve nerded out about aerial arts,
carpentry, poetry and power tools.
Holistic medicine, ayahuasca, smoking
weed and nursing kittens. Expressing
anal glands, home births, IRAs, small
business taxes and jumpsuits. Building
a bed in a RAV4, sustainable harvesting
from neighborhood yards, Latin names
for botanicals, and how to operate
a scissor lift.

We’ve gotten no sleep. And overslept.
We’ve synced our cycles and compared
notes on what our bodies do. We’ve asked
questions we’d always wanted the answers to.
And left it all up to a tiny unicorn tucked
in a secret garden.

One time, seven of us walked one dog.

One time, one of us burst out in tears
at lunch in front of everyone and
apologized. Let it out, the rest admonished.

Another time, one of us cried in the middle
of the room while prospective clients
toured the space. We made it look
like laughing.

One time, one of us started to tear up because
she was gaining weight. But, silly, she was
pregnant! We all glowed as aunties.

We’ve been married, broken up, rekindled,
new dates, hot hookups, tempestuous affairs
and tender allegiances. We’ve become mommas
and step-mommas, pet moms and garden witches.
We’ve bought houses, sold houses, rented houses
and built houses. We’ve moved out, moved in,
moved on and moved forward with our lives
that will never, ever, be just our own—
singular—lives again.