The best part of having friends, he said,
is how they notice when you take too much
but don’t mention it.
The taste of
of how I did not begrudge him that extra bite,
though we were sharing one between us,
and of how we had crept through damp alleys
past dumpsters and growling semis
just to buy that apple,
sticky, crisp and sweet.
Later, quarter to six in the morning,
we paused beneath a pale streetlight.
Hair tangled, nose running, rainwater and
smearing my face. He looked at me, I saw
a strange look pass over him
and he said I was beautiful.
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