by Ieisha McIntyre
As friends, we sit. Share coffee and talk
about our lives, and where we have been.
And, find that we almost met
at a party, but a friend of yours was sick and wanted to go home,
and I arrived late
and came through another door.
But we remember the weather that day,
and the feeling of the sun.
We remember the party host
and the friends we shared in common,
but we never met the way we could have, should have,
if we would have had the chance.
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