ley lines,* she says,
and i say they're not real.

but i remember
whispers at three a.m.,
making each other laugh
when we just want to cry,
secrets told on sidewalks
and ski lifts.

but i know
that she's the only one
i can be not just myself,
but anyone with.

but i know
that she's the only one
i've shown my words to.

and maybe -
maybe invisible strings
that laugh at distance
to connect us together
seem a bit more
real.