From a second storey window

clothes that looked
honest on you
that would have seemed
contrived on anyone else

a portrait of you
framed on a wall
you standing next to it

a party in summer
ecstasy and cocktails

a phone call

a light went out

twenty one hours later
and i can’t stop imagining your fall

two months and two days
a crowd and red wine
a free bar and your long coat

one year and four months
you told me i looked like
an actress from an old film
i remember the things that don’t matter


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