To the one I think of often
though you’re rarely by my side.
You’ll never be my next of kin
but I’d want you told if I died.

Maybe we’re too independent –
we survive alone quite well –
but when stuff happens, good or bad,
you’re the first one I long to tell.

No, we’ll never be an item
but, ‘significant’ or not,
you’re my intermittent other
and the dearest friend that I’ve got.