Good friends once told us

“When you move,

It’s over.”


Like watching ice cream melt

When you carry it

Too far.


I thought it harsh.

But they faded away,

Leaving empty cones.


Friendships are different now.

Digital hugs

With alligator arms.


Everyone is a BFF.

“Forever” becoming 

A game of numbers.


I have 203 of them,

Who live in a crowded pool, 

An inch deep.


Eating ice cream together

Was better. 

I liked the mess.

By Glenn Currie  in “Ball of String,”  published  in 2019  by Snap Screen Press