We rarely find the time anymore
To sit as old friends do
You and I.

This was where you
Handed me a cigarette
And for the first time in my life
I decided to be brash
And took a sip of that nicotine
And you patted me on the back when I coughed
And laughed
And said
“You’ll get used to it”
(God damn, did I get used to it)

This was where I
Gave you a bottle of whiskey
When you turned twenty
And we sat here in the cool night air
All night
Counting the stars
And marvelling at how stupid
Some people turned out to be sometimes
(We mentioned names…)

This was where we –
Well, mostly me –
Ranted and raved that one winter night
As the clouds gathered and a storm formed
About how that stupid bastard
Deserved to die
After what he’d done to me –
Remember that?
And you simply handed me another cigarette
And shrugged
And said
“We’ll think of something”
(We always did)

This was where
That one night
We sat and drunkenly compared the sizes of our chest
And laughed about how
Somebody would be lucky to have us,
And unlucky at the same time
And where I blurted
“That bastard deserves to die”
And this time
After you gave me a cigarette
You just nodded.

This was where we,
Hours after the deed was done,
Sat with our hands dirty
And a cigarette each,
And the bottle I bought you last week
Lay empty at our feet
And I cried because I never thought it would come to this
And you put your arm around me
And helped me count the stars.

And here we are.
It takes years
To come back to familiar places
Sometimes.

And this is where
Tonight,
Under the light of the stars,
Acting like we’re twenty two again,
You turned to me,
Smiled,
And asked me if I was up for another round.

I shrugged and remembered that
I had never gotten around
To burying that gun.

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