People become semi-strangers over
time, distance, lack of shared
experience. Reacquaintance
brings pain, ripping some kind of
bandage from maintained relationship.
I can't pull this string-can telephone
any tighter due to Earth's curvature,
certainly not through Einstein's
space-time fabric bending thingy.
I want old things to pop from
just-opened cans, fresh, familiar,
just as tasty as before. Is that
too much for me to ask?
55/100
all the voices in my head 
Your friend looks like a lovely human, and I know this feeling well. I feel this about the moms I spent five years with when our kids were little. We spent sometimes 8 hours together a day, loving on our little ones, sharing in mothering, learning how to be in this new role. Our kids bonded too, but then school started. All of our kids took different paths. Now, 20 years later, a few came to my book launch. It felt like “there’s my best friend” and also “who is that stranger?” So strange.
Entirely
Love the truth in the title and the poem and enjoyed your unique take on this.
Thanks! That means a lot.