The intensity of a good bout of melancholy
Only brimming with the austere glory
Of a stomach just barely brimming with perfect fish
Seaweed wrapped about
Pride
And it's been two years today
That Steven turned around in the web of scholastic nonsense
And effortlessly clawed
Past sticky tendrils of disappointment and disillusion
And it's been two years that he's shown me my own magic
And it's been two years that I get to come home sometimes
And feel this good.
A bellyful of sushi, not enough to be full, but enough to be satisfied...
And somehow still, so many years later, my truest friends
And a single raw slice of yellowtail
Are joy.