Sparrow

I cling to the rollicking waves of our tumultuous friendship before they slip from my grasp, white-knuckled fingers and tangled legs praying not to be tossed astray by the unforgiving current.

They sit in the back of the bus,

the shimmer of secrecy ignited in their eyes,

her head in his lap, his hands in her hair,

her lips twisted in that sickening smile. My neck aches 

from looking behind me, and my