is what we
were. She held up
her end. And I held
up mine all in a straight

line. Talking on
the phone till ten
about music, school
and men. Our

mother's yelling for us
to stop. Was close to
eleven when we got
off. Then life got in

the way. I got married. She
move away. And the books
all tumbled. Guess that’s
the way the cookie crumbles.