childhood friend

when the air conditioner’s too cool
and you crave the warm outside air

I’m drinking coffee from a can,
but coffee’s always come in a can

like the ones we used as stilts
when we were twelve or eleven

and my best friend’s name started with K,
but her real one started with A

she never used that name until
she married a “man” who abused her

they had a daughter
who was born ill, now she’s eight

K now goes by K again
and has another daughter with another man

she has blue eyes and blond hair
not like her Mexican sister

the new man drives race cars
and makes friends with butterflies

it’s been too long since we’ve talked,
but I guess that’s what happens

we drift away until we all float alone
in the ocean, waiting to collide


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