The Weight of Friendship

While you were tracing some odd and secret letters on the back of your date, your elbow was resting on my knee. You're light of frame and I could carry you easily over whatever made you cry earlier in the evening. You didn't explain, and rightfully we didn't ask for any explanation, we only know that your eyes are red because you cried a few minutes before we met you -- for the first time. Your elbow and arm and back are warm and heavy with intent. Finally, you moved so close we were sharing one seat. Until finally you were sitting on my hand. You are not heavy, it's my friendship with your date that weighs more on my heart.