Maia Huddleston
i spent twenty one years training for a best friend i couldn’t lose
she still seems so far away
my maid of honor will not return the favor
she will be lovely yet loyal to the roots she grew in adolescence
while i danced along the wind like maple seeds
clinging to a moving current, hitting the pavement where it failed
it’s a paperweight sort of sad i hold in my palms from time to time
it’s a post-therapy conflict, not pressing but present
always whispering in my ear through the tipsy game of telephone we play at midnight
asking if i will find her in time, if i will ever