“What would it take?”

He asked.

With my mouth-straight

And voice dead,

I respond,

“An eight foot ledge?

A jump?”

Red, blue, and white lights can be seen

From a distance

In the street down below.

“That’s not what I meant,”

He stated

With his voice like a firm handshake.

Police prep a parchute blanket down below.

The corner of my eye met his

And a warm tear drop escaped.

I turned myself around

And clapsed in his arms

With a simple reply:

“A friend.”

#