She was my friend,
it just worked like that.

We had routines and we had time together
we had what we wanted.

She liked grey –
dove grey and flat almost white grey,
when the ocean and the sky looked the same,
she liked that.

She had all these feelings about where I was from,
and she told them to everyone.

She liked to gape at everyday things,
like the walls that held up the highway,
or the houses lit up at night.
That’s an amazing wall she would say.

It was my wall but I had never noticed it.

We went to a party where everyone had feathers in their hair
outside in the yard people were grazing and lazing
her face was round and pale
a “twinkle in her eye,” my mother would say.

She had something going on.