Aashish calls late at night
thinking of the diamond days
when life seemed shiny and so bright
and we lived off of D-rays
and snack foods sugared with each bite.
How those years were bright and gay!
– but in a het way. Got that, right?
Gay panic was a thing then, ey?

Aashish calls well after dark
once his drink has gotten on.
His voice is raspy; thoughts are stark.
Though he’s not seen, his face sounds drawn,
his words will sometimes miss their mark
but his sentiment is strong.
His words fly by: spirit, spark.
It seems he’ll talk until the dawn

but then, at once, Aashish will flop.
His energy will take a dive
and he will state our time’s been chopped.
After all, it’s ten of five
so we must break. Our call must drop
until the next time it’s revived.
With that, we end. We sleep. We stop.
This way, Aashish keeps our friendship alive.