me and my friends
me and my friends learn intimacy in each other’s hands me and my friends channel knowledge for each other and change spare tires ask about ex-boyfriends and comfort with mouths like our grandmothers summon our most beloved elders
me and my friends make mistakes and love anyway
me and my friends watch each other have children and have fun at the club
me and my friends know the tonal pitches of each quiet
me and my friends know the fear of—
me and my friends know when it’s all too much. know the look of one fading, how the eyes look, pretending
me and my friends know I’m sorry, I fucked up and How can I do right by you?
me and my friends know when one leaves, we all leave
me and my friends know hard love sometimes feels good
me and my friends want to see each other win we put in all of our chips to see to it make our shoulders strong to stand on pick out our afros for the occasion put on our flyest suits bring our new girlfriends bring seeds in our pockets show up with our wigs even snug on the napes of our necks
when I forget who I am I call her she never forgets
I will hold fire for you when it's your turn: to cross the stage to raise up the baby to nail the headstand to get the medal to close the conversation to empty the lot to finalize the divorce to christen the baby to consecrate the offering to lay it/her/them to rest to read the thing aloud, finally to weep uncontrollably at nothing for hours to shout the brave thing to be the designated driver to pull her elbow away from the creepy dude to hold the purse while you handle that business to bring the water
me and my friends lose contact and come up for air years later when we see each other on the street
smell each other’s hair and know the other has survived, something, everything. start from the place we left off.
eat off the same plate head on the same pillow save from drowning, often
me and my friends feel everything one of us goes to make the offering and all our toes feel the tide licking at our heels feel the relief balming over us already
*this poem is dedicated to my friend, Rheema. She stands at the intersection of fierceness and softness with me. She is currently fundraising to cover costs of her family's business closing in the Bay Area. You can donate and access her fundraising campaign here: https://www.youcaring.com/rheemacalloway-1106111