The night so warm I could fall in love
with anything
including myself. My loves. You are the only people
I’d surrender my softness to.
The moon so blue. And yes, what’s gold
is gold. What’s real
is us despite
a country so grieved, so woke, so death.
Our gloom as loud as shells.

Listen. Even the ocean begs.
Put your hands in the sand, my friend.
It’s best we bury ourselves.
What’s heavy. What’s heavy?
Becomes light.

∆ Noor Hindi, Ode to Friendship
Edgewater Beach, 2019