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My dear friend.

The first time we met,
as I held a door open for her stride,
I saw not the eye's image, not yet;
I glimpsed, outwardly, her beauty inside.

I did a double take at that smile,
heard her thanks and silently rejoiced;
her normal visage I saw, after a while,
and 'til now this thought I had not voiced.

We walked inside, and with so many others
we covered that room in song.
Unfamiliar, not yet in practice brothers,
nonetheless not a thing could any find wrong.

Music quickly became our bond,
leading to so much more.
Of her humor and spark, I am quite fond,
life near her never close to a bore.

With the clarinet she made art,
but too, just so with her hands;
the lady with the large heart
your attention her muse commands.

She's told me of despair complete,
of feeling all hope, at times, gone.
She found a way to fight, compete;
to win out to a new dawn.

Faint of heart, weak of gut,
none can accuse her of having been -
we've discussed disease, pain, smut,
her sensibilities speaking falsely of sin.

For in her I can detect none,
one just wanting to forgive, smile and laugh.
I often help her get the latter done,
both drinking deeply from friendship's carafe.

Once so long ago, for so short a time,
we were somewhat more than friends,
kisses and walks shared in a courtier's clime;
never been strained since - just the way life wends.

Then, thousands of miles apart,
we talked not quite so often;
then, difficulties pierced her heart,
my words the blows to soften.

Still she's suffering, sadly,
still she's stuck sorrowed;
yet some small slice of it I have to see gladly -
at least that it's my solace she's borrowed.

For she's recovering some of my sanity,
giving me that much more connection to home -
to the therein found sample of humanity
that's solemn upon seeing me roam.

Just today, she's helped me all anew,
drawing the weeping wolf, in exchange for this -
envisioning what will be my new tattoo,
a new mark on the flesh, to reminisce.

No matter what trials befall her in this life,
she simply must know that she's never alone;
during the tribulations and strife,
she just has to pick up the phone.

My dear friend.


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