How she loved them back
I met her one night,
Although I'd known her before
She's in Nepal right now
Learning how beautiful the world is.
She sent word home
About a woman who looks into your eyes
With a sense of awe and love
It's incredible, their eyes, she says,
They perfected the art of cute kids.
She went to a Buddhist monastery
In the clouds
Where they've perfected religious toleration
I wish I could climb those infinite stairs to the clouds.
I'd known her for a week,
But we drove to Michigan together
On a whim, she had to get home
So we talked about everything as people do
When they're alone and not distracted,
I was shocked by how many people love her
And how well she loves them back.
I never told her so
She thought I was bored, or not listening.
She told me about her father,
He came to America from Iran
The two of them slept in a room someone else's house,
Her dad took the floor while he was getting his PHD.
Her parents were divorced, but she loved her daddy
He re-married when she was 13.
They had sex with her in the hotel room
And her step-mom is a bitch.
Nothing's the same anymore.
I met her best friend, an Indian vegan with trees painted on her wall and a spoon fetish and poison ivy all over her face.
She did an impression of her mom,
and I realized there's nothing funnier
than kids doing impressions of their parent's accents.
I was in the car, with Aria and her father
On the way to the airport.
She almost cried and
I almost cried for her,
When her father said, “Aria,
You are the greatest girl in the world
To everyone else
But your family. To your family,
You only create chaos.”
We left our separate ways,
I, back to Boston, her
To her life.
I said I was sorry, and she told me it was okay,
But it’s never okay.
We’re friends, we’ll never be great friends,
But we’ll always be close, I feel.