Tuesday, 12 November 2019

Thee

A thousand images of you in my head
and yet I picture you differently each time
In my memory
you live in fragments of a million variations
some are just smiles
a thousand images of laughter
The simple curve of your lips in a hundred different aspects
a simple nod entrusted to an omnibus
they all implode into a fluctuating face
that never crystallises into completion

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