It amazes me that in their room

lights out 

alarm clock night light on

where there is no physical boundary

except that of the floorspace valley between their two twin beds

they are able to toss whispered words across that space to each other

and receive them with grace.

It is like their friendship,

despite the intermittent tumultuous rocky ground of the daytime,

is renewed by the moonlight peeking through their window

allowing all of the sun inspired intensity of the day

to settle down to the size of whispers

the content of which I both want to know

and want to allow to be theirs at the same time.

 © Houseman 2013