She wrote me a poem
Do you remember where we went that night—
that night you sighed and told me all about
your girlfriend, and your parents, and that fight
you had with them? How we both climbed out,
over the couch, and through the window, up
onto the fire escape, until we got
out on the roof? I think you’d brought a cup
of coffee—it was 5 AM—I’d brought
my notebook, and we sat and watched the sun.
Do you remember how we cried, but then,
but then—we started laughing? Oh! the one
that got away, alas, and, at last, when
we stopped and smiled and could breathe again—
was that the moment you became my friend?