Malingering

Friendship is as friendship does–
what never is most never was. It’s not
a rush; it’s not a buzz; it’s not a bit of
dryer fuzz. It can’t be shelved, or laid away;
it can’t just be the words we say. If

you are mine and I am yours, then nothing
can remain of course, nothing granted,
nothing given. An empty room cannot be
leavened with a healthy dose of silence; nor
can an island in the sky bridge the space from
you to I.

Were I a fly perched on your wall, would
I stand or would I crawl? Would I idle; would
I stall? Would I learn to walk, or fall upon my
broken knees and plant a few suppliant trees? And,
if I did,
would you thaw, or would you freeze?