My Friend(s)

Is a slow evening fire, religious during a dawn crisis
Sharp as half a rock, solid and Strange as a whole one
Is a base for his own unrequited love, and requited lust
Sipping from a cup, and mulling over the chronological order of things
Is a headstrong royal, loving and unrepentant
Steely-eyed, iron-willed
Is the lighter vein, jocular
And the master of the subcultural insider
Is an open ear, and soothing tongue
Though golden, never quite mine enough
Is the one I almost lost,
And through tears and anger, found again
Is the two for one
Spiritual soundingboards and spectators to skepticism
Is the stealer of hearts, for good or bad
And the pulse of pragmatism
Is an anomalous addition, she’ll agree
The guiltless subject, of guilty poetry