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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