One I thought I knew
A thing or two
'Bout who is who

Simple to see
Your eyes on me
Hand on a knee
Our laughter gay and free--
We be.

But what we share,
Although you care
You're not aware
How much it means,
Though little it seems
That you're still there.

I did not ask you to be my friend.
You did not ask me if you could.
And sometimes I wonder, the moments we spend--
That if I had to choose this, I would.

You don't understand.
You don't know what you demand.

But you offered me your hand.

(and I took it.)

And so you I trust.
Because I must.
Because it's just--

what friends do.
And I hope you trust me too.

But the hour is late,
And our tongues have slipped enough.
Tomorrow we'll fake
Again at being tough
And dealing with the rough
And glossing over all that stuff

But as of now the world is big
And I feel small, and older.
As into the couch pillows we dig,
If you would be so kind,
perhaps you would not mind,
if I sleep on your shoulder?

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Author's Note: I have recently discovered how awesome sleepovers are. And that despite the fact that there is very little sleeping going on, the secrets all. It's beautiful to watch. And it's beautiful to be a part of.

I would even consider it a work of art.

Picture is from solstice sleepover in the Dragon's Den.

~quille