Anyway, you are not here.

You are –

It doesn’t matter –


I could have told you, for the umpteenth time,

About my thoughts (such as they are)

And how they centre on you.

Or us. As we were.

There was a time, before our eyes dimmed

When we thought each other handsome.

I know it is true of you.

I pray you do not look at me.

Pictures even.

Because I am not that person.

I am adrift, now.

And that makes a difference.

Had you been here, you would know

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