The Photo Finish

 

The picture frame was empty.

 

Its blank expression populated cities.

 

The neon lights averted gazes or

focussed even more as

tarry skies consumed

mould memories.

 

Office block shadows

 tormented your

past

and your absent anecdotes,

projecting cataract photos

of lovers inside you.

 

You fell apart

collapsing to the glass ceiling.

George Stanworth