we were girls together,
in school uniforms and hair ribbons,
sharing break time fruits like they were sweets.
we knew each other better than we knew ourselves,
our brains working in tandem,
words unspoken in glances.
but now,
now we're women.
and the person who sits across me is a stranger,
slipping slowly on coffee to fill the conversational void.
she was a bonus sister, a kindred spirit.
and now i dont even know if i can call her a friend.
she's oceans apart, yet just across the table,
the wood failing to act as a bridge,
and so, like crumbing mortar,
our history falls into the water below,
disolving like sugar, taken away into the stream.
we were girls together. but we are women, alone.
