In a beer and burger joint
where we once sat
and ate transfixed
I recall our conversation
but you escape my need
to realise your face.
I make it worse with beer
and shots of vodka
with a few functioning brain cells
clinging to memories of photographs
to place you
in a holiday mnemonic
and it works except
your image wavers
the scene is blurred
and now I know for sure
it’s time to go home
as in, ‘wherever you are’
as Billie Holiday sings
Good Morning Heartache
wringing the world out
over my face
you are days, weeks,
months, years away
I order 2 double vodkas
no tonic
my cup is
overflowing.
.
.
.
related to Homecoming Remembering
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