Poetry Blogs (dinner party)

Saw you again

over the wine and canapés,

and it was as though you

were dead to me all over again.

Your shining eyes were locked

with some other bloke’s and I

thought, ‘Shite, not again.’

Except there is no again,

and it’s my well-crafted lie

to believe that you were alive

to me. Then you came over and said ‘Hi’;

I echoed the same, lamely,

and you said how g...

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