Ace Boggess

“Is Not That Which Is Loved in Some State
Either of Becoming or Suffering?”

[question from Plato’s Euthyphro]

my friends worry they are bad parents
broken in bed
invisible to the men
who loved the women they were
in a dream
my friends cannot sing anymore
because of cancer
careers
unhappy marriages
they have not played their drums
since the last millennium
my friends
carry their boyfriends to the creek
from a stone footbridge
throw them in
vicarious as glass pebbles
symbolic gestures
my friends move to faraway cities
wish they were here
or I there
wish the scrapers didn’t reach the sky
wish the moon were brighter
the rivers wider locally
my friends are my friends &
can’t know
how I collect their bruises in a jar
map the scars on their psyche
trace a finger
along their slit wrists
awkward tan lines
palest skin beneath their wedding bands

 

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