Let's be besties, friend,
let's be boon companions
till the skies rain birthday cake.

Let's hang out, amiga,
side by side, inseparable,

till churchgoing Oklahomans
march in Pride parades.

Let's send each other texts
in sixteen different languages
to start a cloudy Sunday in December.

I can probably make you laugh
with my drastic metaphors,
my slippery similes,
my off-color Bob Dole imitations.

Let's rehearse

the dialogue from Frasier
over mint-filled Oreos
and swigs of aitch-two-oh.

Let's whistle New Wave rhapsodies,
let's trade one-liners before the preamble
and the moment of silence.

 
You'll kick my carcass
from Somerville to Santa Cruz
if I even think about feeding my disease.

When we've put away the chairs
and said goodnight, I start to miss you

48 seconds after we go our separate ways.