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To The Friends I Don’t See Anymore

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Allef Vinicius

to the friends i don’t see as much:

I. salt and sugar lips; brown, green, and hazel eyes glued to the romances on the screen; crossing fingers that my parents won’t walk in during the sex scenes; not sleeping, just talking, softly, in the dark.

II. driven everywhere, pre-license; movie theaters, malls, restaurants; we start to grow up, though i am late on the license, clinging tightly to my adolescence since growing up feels weird; annual parties in the basement around christmas, cold vanilla frosting, 50 cent on the speakers; as a whole unit, we don’t foresee a fracture.

III. reprieves from the scorching heat; feeling cold chlorinated water wash away the sweat, submerging under the blue surface to acclimate; life updates in the local starbucks, at outback, over tea and coffee, over california chicken sandwiches; lingering till the end.

IV. scribbling answers to questions on scraps of paper; who can guess who writes what; i give some strange and lengthy answers because i like to amuse myself, i like to see the reactions; games gradually dismantle; banter transitions into the next room.

V. strolling to the creek on a dead-end street, spring sunshine on our skin; sitting outside a cafe when the humidity breaks in the night sky; walking down the avenue, past the junior high school, past the parking lots, sometimes into sketchy parts of town; our feet don’t waver, we don’t waver; conversations move into others; time goes fast.

to the friends I don’t see as much: we go in various directions; life picks at our threads, naturally. however, i still think of you all. TC mark

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