Losing my friend

This is how we operate. This is how we live it out. Again. There’s a gurk, anticipating with words still unsaid. My mouth open, almost ready, with admiration and a tongue for licking. His look could tell me a thousand things but I’m not seeing. I remember his friend saying that we are always seeing but never looking, i contradict with we are looking but never seeing. Even and especially places at the end of your nose. And fine I’m no different, but the decision is mine alone, away from words and gazes and arrogent fringes and confessions late at night at bus stops. A new post-it note above my computer, thoughts causing friction. the friction between his and mine. There’s some mechinacal happening, repetition, volleying, smiling, nuzzling. Somehow it all seems more deeper than before. Trying to see things your way...