what’s your name
we used to rehearse our lines
in the lounge at memorial hall
back when you could
smoke cigarettes inside
and buy drafts of beer for fifty cents
I recall saying I would never
forget those lines but
they seem to have escaped me
and I am left with only a memory
of how the sunlight
bounced off the glass-framed
paintings hanging on the walls
making your eyes
appear as a certain shade of green
that for some reason reminded me
of the time I sailed the aegean sea
january two thousand thirteen
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