I remember sharing
stories and secrets
back when secrets
started to mean something,
and the softness of your hair,
the sparkle in your eyes.

You, curled up
in my bedroom
more nights than I can count
because sometimes
it felt more like home
to you than home.

Luna moths
peppering my window,
and if you looked in
you’d see us laughing.
It’s been twenty-four years
of this friendship
and we are still laughing together,
but sometimes, what’s better,
is our silences.

The way you hold me
in your stares and your arms
and certainly your heart.
Your love is strong,
your love is tough,
and I love you for it.

14/365 – A Poem a Day For a Year

For my best friend Beth, on her birthday.