by Brian Fuchs

She’s liquid.
I grasp for her, for who we were,
for what I wish I could will her to be;
she slips through fingers too ill equipped
to manage with the wetness of our friendship.
In vain, I clutch too hard;
the last of what we are escapes silently.



Author's Note: She and I are in the midst of a friendship lull. I hope it all turns around for us in the end.

Posted on 02/18/2009
Copyright © 2021 Brian Fuchs

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Julie Adams on 05/10/11 at 04:54 AM

I like how this poem is a slice of life, a sliver of a bigger story when considering the author's note...peace n poems to u, jewels

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