A title doesn't make you what
The role you play will never speak
of friendship's many bonds. Rich or
poor, you'll always be the best of
friends to me.
We share an empathy that others
just don't seem to understand. And
yet there is an answer for us on the
silent seas that drift in sunlit symmetry,
each time we take the time to smile
I saw you crying yesterday;
heart cried out, just as my mind
kicked in. What was there I might
do to make my friend feel better
now? Touch and feel has never
been our way, yet oh, I felt your
need just then, for just a tender
hug. Socially, the circumstances
stood there in the in between,
blocking every move.
Seldom do the poets write
love between two friends; as if
the feel of love could not exist
without a sexual appeal. And yet
this love is full of a respect that's
seldom garnered in a bed. And
here, a sense of honor bonds us
deeper than a fleeting feel of
ecstasy could ever do.
And here we care, more deeply
than we could within the many
worldly roles we come to play.
For here we dare to love without
those many expectations; accepting
just the place the other's at, without
the thorns of blame and shame
so many seem to wield.
And so I offer you that hug,
instead of gestures, knowing you will
understand and feel a need fulfilled...
? Michaelette ?
Copyright© 2001 Michaelette L. Romano
All Rights Reserved
Take me home . . .