What happens to our friends when they leave us?
Do they stay away or come back to us somehow?
My heart folds in upon itself and I know not where I am looking.
The way I live leaves me exposed, decentralised nodes
of my spirit, gifted to them as they come.
Bowed head, bent knee,
ever. always. truly.
She begs to lend her strength but spooks like she’s wild.
