full of smiles
sitting on the hardwood floor
her head resting in open palms
dark tendrils of silken hair
cascading, dancing
toward proud shoulders
her oval shaped face
alive with sincere delight
her voice unrushed
weaving fantasies
of how
one day …

we’d be famous
we’d be the special ones
always together
“best friends never part”
she declared
crossing her heart
hoping to die

while I sat
indian-style
my eager head nodding
eyes wide with admiration
silently agreeing to all her hopes
and untamed dreams

no longer children
she would lie on her bed
staring blankly
listening to
dimmed voices
screeching siucide
clothes ragged
worn yet another day
hair laying limply
on a creased pillow
unsteady hands
grasping a Newport
ashes tumbling on white sheets

while I sat
indian-style
weaving the fantasies
of how
one day …

we’d be famous
we’d be the special ones
always together
“best friends never part”
I reminded her

I can still hear
her laugh


as she crossed her heart

hoping to die