it was the words we never spoke out loud

even in empty spaces

for fear the walls would hear

but in the space between us, they were allowed

those ugly things you are never supposed to think or feel,

the fears you don’t even want to admit to yourself

and of course the sacred, precious dreams you don’t ever tell a soul

lest it’s sacredness be stripped from mere utterance

but you & I, we allowed them

it was the baby steps we took against the current of our fears

the celebrations  when either rode a wave

clangs and cymbals

the reaching out when terror and pain was

at either door… sliding in from underneath the love

late night calls, emails in the middle of the night

the morning calls when the house was quiet

lunches out the door, me making my way to work

have a beautiful day my love, I love you

morning after morning

how you called every single time I needed a driving partner

literally accompanying me on my journeys

warm orzo at breakfast

homemade chai on chilly days

the art of tea

the art of life

the art of love

the 401 drives

arms wide open with hugs

warm pot of soup on the stove

coconut milk ordeals

cooking meal after meal together

in between soul shares and dishes

all of it, every moment till the end was a  labor of love without any labor

the wisdom you brought into my life

I could live another lifetime and not have amassed as much

you could tell me a million times I was your blessing

but you were mine

you even gave me a brother, and boys to love

dinnertime conversations as a family

endless blessings, endless memories

tearful train station goodbyes have nothing on this one


all I could do was hold you

and say it out loud in hopes that your soul could hear

only my love and not my regrets

and so maybe you won’t need to forgive me

maybe me holding you will make up for a fraction of my errs

and maybe I will continue be a blessing

and our souls will remain intertwined

and if I am truly blessed

in my next life we will play in sandboxes

on swings

in open grassy fields near giant willow trees

again as sisters

in spirit, soul and blood

in the meantime

may the cracks in your heaven be big enough for me reach through and hold your hand

and long enough for our voices to echo back and forth

and deep enough to match the love held deep in my heart and yours

that we may continue to be a testimony of the art of friendship

the art of life

the art of love