Moe missed his or her or their friend.

They had excursed in shared dream bubbles

And danced a labyrinth formed of a snake of near-infinite length

And had their passports stamped in principalities where it was impossible not to belong.

One horrid day though

Moe’s friend asked to express their friendship with a name change

And became Eom,

Thinking they would reflect,

Would harmonize;

But a cruel hit-and-run spirit told the two

That due to Eom standing for End of Month

Their friendship would end at midnight

Three days hence.

Over those days Eom transformed

Into an Aleppo Pine tree,

All but their mouth

Which lamented, “O! I am losing you. I am losing our memories. Where have

Adventures Six and Seventeen Gone??”

And that last day

Eom’s voice became ropy

With emotive sapdrops

And right before the bells of Midnight tolled

She wrestled out “Farewell, beloved…”

And her mouth barked and hardened.

Moe was inconsolable.

Her friend had pined away.