Talking to Melisa is like reading a book written by a dead poet.
Poignant, sincere,
and not manipulated
by current day society.

I never know how to respond.
She throws such empowering words at me,
while simultaneously
showing her weaknesses and tragedies.

She feels superhuman
but with the power of vulnerability.
I listen to her and think, if I could only speak as eloquently as her.
If only I had her wisdom.
If only I could have her perspective on things.
However, she will quickly remind me that I am great,
a tree among grass.
That I inspire her more than any big city.
Words that are only read in fiction.

Our friendship has always been its own entity,
like a secret meeting in a garden
held every year
where we drink tea and discuss
world domination.

Actually all of my friendships are like that.
Maybe that is why they last so long.

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