A love letter to friends

I wish the warmth of our embrace could ensconce us forever,

Overwhelm and banish the darkness,

Tear at its seams, unravel it, illuminate it,

Enkindle it in constellations

That locate clarity in all of this –

Answers, steadiness, meaning, strength, purpose,

To weather the storms that buffet and quake us –

A map charting horizons beyond our weariness, our guilt,

Our well-intentioned but strained consolations.


I wish we could carve monuments to struggle, craft barricades

Out of the debris of our pain,

Rally these tears into deluges,

Beckon earthquakes from the cracks of these scars

To wreak upon those who have oppressed us,

Consigned us here to, fearful, wander

In the shadow of their empires.


I wish you knew how cherished you are.

I wish you knew that your companionship

Is the rock upon which this maelstrom breaks,

The harmony that rises above this forlorn din,

The grace that flourishes and blooms despite the squall

Clawing relentlessly at these roots.


I wish you knew that you remind me of new worlds,

Conjure and weave and electrify them through the pall of our grief,

That your warmth and brilliance and fortitude

Could cleave stone, ignite lightning, regenerate every razed forest

To deliver us utopia.


I wish you knew how time is suspended,

How these cycles of violence are softened

By the barrier of our closeness,

How stillness grounds my flailing spirit

When we are together.


I wish you knew how brave you are.

How I feel your greatness in every quiet, unassuming moment,

In every hug and conversation

In every small, monumental act of resistance –

How I feel the warmth of better worlds,

Witness glimpses of its beauty

In the comfort of your presence,

In the poetry of your voice when you speak of revolution,

When we talk of care and rebellion and hope

And all that is good in this life.


You are that which is good in this life

That which is heroic, and kind, and gentle,

That which wreathes auroras and bandages and courage

Around the throes and echoes of our pain –

I know it tries to convince you that you are unworthy, undeserving, a burden

But you unleash futures, liberate presents,

Remind us that there is still space to feel and to live.

You are not pain,

But the very bulwark that keeps its wrath at bay.


There is something beyond this, I know,

Something more,

I know because of you

And I know we can find it together;

We’re finding it together.