Ode to My Homegirls

smelling of orange rind of cardamom
most beautiful girls in the world wake up bitch
we’re getting waffles you can keep crying

but you’re going out my marriages
my alibis my bright & hardy stalks
of protea & all i know of love i learned

at thirteen dialing basma’s home phone
by heart to three-way call whatever boy
so that weeks later when the phone bill came

only basma’s familiar number beside the time stamp
clearing my name basma herself staying awake
for hours to hang up the phone after

you who send pictures of your rashes
to the group text & long voice notes
from the bathtub your laughter echoing against the tiles

you who scatter the world’s map piling into
cheap buses & budget airlines four of us asleep
in my dorm bed six of us overflowing

my studio apartment false lashes for weeks after
like commas in my every pillowcase you clog my toilet
& admit ityou text me screenshots

from the gucci fashion show getting rich
so i can get u this & when i lived alone
& that man followed me

one night home from the six train
up lexington & into the hallway
tried for hours to break open my front door

you took turns from all your cities & stayed
overnight with me on the phone for three days
snoring & murmuring in your sleep