Sitting opposite

All in black

As always


Though it’s been some time

Since we did this

Or something like it


Sipping beers that recede

With foam on glass

Like a shrinking sea


Talking art, kebabs, clothing

And the people

We left behind


Waving torches

In the creeping dark


Taking comfort in the thought

That just as we remember

We are not forgotten.


You say


“I try to live a gentle life”


And I cannot recall

Anything so perfect

Or so foreign.


Cling to that

When the sea rushes back

As it will


Like water beneath a plane’s wings

The winter dark

And the silence of a stitch.

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