It was the minutiae

that fused them,

those six, sisterly,

serene, apparently

unruffled confidants,

ever poised

at surface, as they went

about their world.

The breadmaking,

though, the



the inexplicably hard

sex-making, well

it enfeebled them,

loosened skin

and scorched their hair,

softened teeth,

slackened jaws,

billowed tongues

with toxins

they could not spit,

or share.

So the ration,

that small piece of truth,

each unreservedly


to the other,

it redeemed them,

the simple act

of walking between houses

a revival.


Daily Prompt: Friend

Image Credit: 1960s Tupperware ad, via tumblr


Categories: Poetry

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