Loyal as the pestering gum grappling
onto the bottom of your shoe.
During the final stanzas of friendship,
I am always scraped off.
Chewed up by offering grins,
and signature interest, eventually ebbing.
I simmer to the familiar thud of companionship
being spat out.
Dewy salvia mixed with edible rubber, I wait
for the next sandal to clasp, but I never hope
to stay straddled in grooves.