The edges of our friendship

Can I just stay
at the edges of our friendship
without swimming to the
whorls of the centre?

There’s so much I can read
from the edges
Are they strong and straight?
fenced in by the seams?
tattered, ragged or wild?
frayed with nervous hysteria?
giving way unwillingly
to gentle pulls and pushes?

Why must I always
experience the whole?
It tires me.

Have the years not taught me yet
that I can stay at the top
for as long as I like?
And surely I have learned to
look at the clues
and decipher the overt tell-tale signs
like the patterns of the tea-leaves
at the bottom of the cup.

The facade has its
own texture and sheen
and is clever in its deception
while it hides the heart.

(c)Anita Vasudeva, May 2006