Stolen Star- Hijaltalin
amidst temporary rifts
for e.h.
when I needed a hand you extended
it and it felt like finally I could imagine
living for some(one)
time/these floaties, i thought, kept me buoyant, “I was just making do,” looking down
shamefully at the sand on my toes, you had pulled me
out of the navy blue lake.
it was friendship it was/finally female
friendship, we gave each other tampons when we forgot them in public
restrooms/phone calls late at night about spiraling/pain
from our stomach cramps, swirling/the nonsense
our heads seamlessly turns into common
sense you were there at 3am/we went back to Crystal Lake and swam together, shaking
the water off our heads at the Bechdel Test
because, “How can women survive without bashing men once in a while?” floating
on our backs looking at some stars, we wished
we could see more of them, we kick
the base of some fences on Tappan St. and stick some dandelions between
the chain links, “If we love/d a guy once/realize
we actually love someone else, whatever it is, just don’t love him anymore, if he doesn’t love
us back, we deserve that support,
if anyone doesn’t love someone anymore,
I’d hope they could talk to their friends about it” you’re holo(-)
graphic through my phone/but you(r) voice on my desk, spreading
next to my photos taken in Glasgow, the empty wine
bottle with dried chrysanthemums poking out the top, encouraging us both
to sleep tight and thank you so much, many thank you’s, especially
for “the Icelandic indie-rock group suggestion, what’re they called again?” I asked. so many
times/my friend (finally)/gratifying the gravity of our intergalactic bond one/that still ties
into itself like the candy-stripe friendship/
bracelets across oceans when I studied abroad one
that can when you broke your phone, find/our way to pizza
stops, stoop sits at 12am, joking we sent Hedwig with a letter, somehow we met
on time at the tex-mex stop for dinner, 630pm sharp. “We’re better than technology”
you stated, put your foot on the curbside
of Route 9 by the Mobil and your elbow on your knee like Plato smirking, we realize
how “no one rings the doorbell anymore!”/ it’s been
two days since you blocked me and I remember one time last
summer thinking if it was meant
to be that way, could there be a time in our lives where we wouldn’t
be friends? when I thought that by the kitchen sink,
my chest pounded itself, snap-like/glass shat-
tering/(ringing) the hardwood floor
sends heat through
my body, my hands
clammy so I put the sponge down and I knew that would
never happen so I took a walk to your house and we walked somewhere
together/and I was shown again what friends are for,
I didn’t think about this(.) blank space they don’t teach about in children’s hollywood movies.
Prioritizing mental health is part of being a (person)/(friend)-
I remember our sneakered feet tapping the pavement
down Harvard St/because it was just a few days ago, and I pointed
out how our legs walk in time/we started seeing ourselves like two
of your brightest blue and green Techno Glow-in-the-dark acrylic smears
on your emptiest canvas, both our face masks multicolored, “nice outfit!”,
we say at the same time, we wore all black that day/we search for coffee together,
end up at Starbucks and we shrug/challenging ourselves to stop
rolling cigarettes, your applause when it had been four days for me/my head on your shoulder later
in the backyard you’re playing your nintendo switch and apologizing about it how now it might seem
like you’re not listening “we’re just hanging out,” i begin to snore, “no need to be sorry.”