keep your inferences

under your suspicions

tamper with the evidence

she’s got witnesses

 

you match the description

as well do hundreds

devil’s in the details

so’s god

 

the story checks out

the chronology stuck

testimonies recorded

it must’ve been love

 

(there might be a more

prosaic explanation-

alien visitation?)

but it probably was

 

now in its absence

we can’t be too sure

the shirt doesn’t fit

it’s nothing you’d wear

 

you deny ever liking

movies or walks

claim your diet’s solid

never give up the pub

 

but there’s something strange

the way memories play

as we rebound they get

recycled, not thrown out