It's Still Life

Her Geometry

the splendour of it,
how it turns inward

smiles, tears,
stored like old Junes

that friend,
sadness of wilt.

I craved
the butter of words

she took
the shape I cast

the joy
was brief as warmth

but the sting
kept sounding

Written for Writers’ Digest Poem-a-Day Challenge for April 2026. Prompt word: friends