The Last Time, I Think

The credits scroll to black Below, cornered on the screen floats a dim clock face

In a kitchen we can’t see Hopper’s dusk leans indoors shadowing the wall clock

Sprawled like a child beside my laptopped legs my love ages as the clock ticks Not you

She photographed your rooms yesterday The last time, I think

At last I can look at them like a movie, unblurred

It is the final shot and no matter which direction we look, you are receding

Last rites for the living Free to go buddy

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