Your face distorted
through the rain-running glass;
shop lights
flowing down your hair and shoulders;
the harsh neons,
the dull tungsten tea-coloured;
Main Street mermaid circa 1967,
the town a cascading shawl.
When I search through the files,
the dog-eared memories; thumb right through
to the darkest corners of my mind,
that’s all I can find of you.
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