I guess we are friends now.
We used to be that and more.

You used to move in me and I praised
God, Jesus, and The Holy Ghost, too.

I know I will see you again.
I know I will stand in the crowd and
look up at you as you make them all love you.

You will know I am  there whether I tell you or not,
whether you read this and know.
You know me.
I know you.
I know you will feel me the moment you cross that imaginary line into my home state.

What happens if I walk on back beyond the crowd and make my way through those
who know? Would you know I was coming before I got to you? Would they play telephone
and would you be there waiting with a lump in your throat?

What then when I walk in and your friends clear the room?
What then, Pal?

Summer alone? The fall brings you here. Bring your mouth.