Memories are strange; old photographs
are stranger – the former bearing
witness to the tale you long to tell,
the latter selling prima facie evidence
you’d got it wrong: a surgical procedure –
and the form it would dismember.
I see your younger face and mine, less
battered then, than now, by time, and full
of longing: but for what? I can’t remember.
are stranger – the former bearing
witness to the tale you long to tell,
the latter selling prima facie evidence
you’d got it wrong: a surgical procedure –
and the form it would dismember.
I see your younger face and mine, less
battered then, than now, by time, and full
of longing: but for what? I can’t remember.
.
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