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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