words keep wolves at bay

i started stopping
looking for reasons
to drop in.
sharing poems
and prose through
scattered flows
felt right even though
dms sent between us
sometimes got lost
on digital margins.

me, always behind,
you, 14 hours ahead,
meant sending
messages by time travel.
yet sense was made
and traded in our
babbled spaces.
and honestly,
it was so easy
to get so used to
thinking that you would
always be voiced
in my future
pieces.

waiting on
those pending posts
from the other side
of the globe,
they arrived as –
what-next guesses,
edu nots and yeses,
gifs and memes,
and silly scenes
that all made seem,
dammit, like friendships
could float forever,
without IRL meets,
on likes and tweets.

they still do, don’t they?
or maybe they don’t, do they?
now unravelled i wonder.
and down under
somewhere deeper,
i know my look from inside out,
the one i face myself with
out a doubt,
desperately craves a
perverse verse or a turned phrase
and a swear word or two.

but no new words
will be written on this scroll.
so,
tonight,
we each stand silent souls
making peace, one finger
tap at a time.
treasuring screens
that hold our ties
to each other, of confidant,
artist, friend,
poet, teacher, and author.

and
a light swipe up
shows
the similar shares,
in singular layers,
that squares up what
we each have been fed.
gathered up in threads.
of what we’ve said.
and read.
making you,
whole again.