I.
Your name when I talk to you
is your full one
carefully formal.
Acquaintances are fragile
like paper cranes, easily ripped.
II.
Fragility is smothered
by a comfortable warmth
now I see only your first name when we speak.
I pour my thoughts out to you.
III.
I learn more about your life
the shards stuck in your heart
the cracks in your soul
I try my best to heal them with my awful jokes
and scattered hugs.
IV.
I change your name again
you are now a silly nickname
thought up in some late night conversation
about future and family and fears.
V.
You sit across the table from me
I call you my best friend and you laugh,
but I know I mean as much to you
as you do to me.