O'Hara would have been proud


Puerto Rico

My friends aren't really friends,
they're siblings,
they quietly jump my house's fence
and call me by the window,
we haven't necessarily told us the world,
but when we do,
it's done without bitter expressions,
I've never known why we are friends,
I've come to conclusions,
we love each other dearly,
we have met for so long,
we don't know how to grow apart, really,
and If we did,
we wouldn't forget the tone of our voices,
just like those specters that when they reunite,
they know what to tell,
if like time never went by,
even though my friends don't share much with me,
they complain about my 'hipster' music,
to get sleepy or inside thoughts,
so I respond about their repetitive music,
and that they should read more books,
life and humans are too complicated,
for just get worried about the last on radio stations,
or if their clothes look washed out,
or getting frustrated when they didn't get enough hours at work,
when there's people in the other hemisphere that doesn't have anything to take to their mouth,
they criticize my likes on metaphysical movies,
and they tell me I talk like if a symmetric demon conquered my vocal chords.

Those are the things in which I doubt why we are friends.

In the other hand,
we share together the orange silence of the sunset on the horizon,
we share bottles, water, sandwiches, the pillow, a blanket when we sleep together,
without taking all our clothes off,
a simple fear, a few truth revealing memories,
or sharing with each other curious facts,

"Did you knew, Vodka in russian means little water, which is a diminutive of Voda that means water"
and we get our sight lost in ourselves, slightly smiling and nodding,
like registering the information.


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