derek berry

iva

you! patron saint of the soft
punch, you! salvage yard
for lost gumption. we wear
matching pink lip gloss
to waffle house, devour
hash browns until our chins
shine grease-slobbed, until
we’ve traded every story
of growing up again.
we gossipswallow + guttersnark.
we rumor the past into myth,
mark each memory as golden
even if we barely survived.

we survived! remember
when, do you
remember, but do you—yes, yes!
friend, we have made it here together, yes!