it wasn’t him
the hair not right
-----------so straight slicked
the mouth all wrong
his jaw never looked like that
-----------so severe, so unconcerned
I turned away
thinking of the living mouth
-----------pursed lips of anger and threat
-----------open smile of joy in joke
-----------forced frown of deep thought
-----------kind smile of the listener
-----------intense precision of the lecturer
-----------lilting sway of the storyteller
and whispered my goodbye
body buried in polished solid wood
spirit lifted in our moulded memory
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