I’m looking deep.
Your eyes.
Puffed and crowed.
We sit on the step
Blue plumed
Silk Cut comforted.
Grass marks on jeans.
Your boots unpolished.
Where they kicked me.
I say I love you.
Your bowed head,
refuses me again.
You can’t let go.
His punch, his spit.
I did of her. I did of her.
Remembrance.
As we board our trains.
To different stations.
Shaking.
Regressing.
Both folding into history.