Something in the way he looked at me; lost,
yet monstrous.
powerful in a veil of shadows,
the only light of the room grazing the angles of his face;
the detail, stained with ink in my memory,
an image that would ghost my nights.
his eyes somehow darker than they were before,
hiding filthy secrets,
or maybe concealing the frayed seams
of his threadbare heart.
it was impossible to tell.
but an instant fixed in that stare
provoked a vague memory;
a feeling I’d known before;
a moment once –
a room in a grainy photograph
bleached in white light
flooding every line into haze.
it was Praha, perhaps.
or it could have been a dream.
the details I can no longer recall,
just the sense that he
would soon be forever gone, and yet
 I’d never again be
 without him.


2 thoughts on “bis

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