It’s like coffee at breakfast,

or smiling at a child,

it’s as perplexing

as tears at a wedding.

You mustn’t watch the clock,

or the doorknob

to know when to go;

by all means don’t fixate on emptiness

the kind that invades you

even when they’re gone.

It’s wrong to beat goodbye to the punch,

it won’t hurt any less,

It should hurt-it must hurt,

so you know it’s real.

it’s no submarine, ain’t no escape hatch,

You cannot step backwards

into that space,

where you can see out,

and no one sees in…..

that space, the one- soft and warm

like the priest says “free from anxiety”

that one,

Friendship is achieved like Winter is endured

it feels like the first Spring bird songs;

Sounds like Maria Callas, Edith Piaf, Ella Fitzgerald, Aretha,

when achieved,

your insides

are no longer made of glass.