Old Friends, To Be

I can feel it:
the strange silent
whoosh of sucking
like cups upside down on a swimming pool floor
being pulled --
noising only the echo of a difficult detachment,
the outermost sound wave in a large ripple:
a soft gurgle, unexpected, but soon assimilated as
the way it is supposed to be.
I can feel the soft suck
and my ear drums can only seminally
interpret the vibrations.
It's a warm detachment, a fuzzy floating away
that marks the beginning of
Old friendships, to be.