Elbow Street

Friendship 2

Two girls walking hand in hand
No pigtails here though, well past nubile age
They walk like they have no care in the world
And down elbow-street there are railings
And they hold on to them in clutch or clasp, at times hold
And elbow street hides the ulna and radius
Two slender bone formations that make holding, an art form
And walking while holding, a science

And elbow street is where hyphens form
Hyphenated in body and spirit
Tied by a common past and a particulate future
As if they know some man or animal
Will come between them and burrow though one person
And leave the other for the cold salty mists
Of a lonesome jetty

And elbow street ends in fingertips
And when palms clasp, there is no art or science there
It’s just human nature or habit
And those palms grip each other
As if friendship is a prayer and flow and ebb like play-swings
And, touch like a pidgin, renders heart-works simple
This singularity powers the heart engine
To make long-journeys in life-miles
While bartering small deeds and bigger words
When the exchange rate doesn’t matter
Nor inflation or austerity

And that interface on elbow street or palm end
Makes lips perfect strangers
And hearts, those vaults, placed inside breasts
To fill those economies of scale

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