“Stolen Star” by Sarah Dreyfus

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.”