Time stood still
the moment we arrived
the print factory
on that long walk
through her memories
and finally coming
to a memory of mine
the man popping out
the door
Like a wizard from behind
His curtain,
As if having overheard
My tale of long ago
When I labored in such a place
Where I met the woman of my life
With whom I later shared
My life of crime,
And who bore my child,
An ironic twist having some so far
In the company of a workmate
Who might have easily
Been my child.
Making it all feel all the more intense
Emotions of then and now
Exploding in me,
And inside the factory
The scent ink and sight of paper
Dragging me back,
As if I’d never left,
My hormones just as crazy,
The man, the owner,
Giving us the two-cent tour,
As taken with today’s girl
As I was,
As if she could not help
being a magnet for
men
like us, who lust,
all this mingling inside me
a witch’s brew stirred up
all the boil, toil and trouble,
until I felt drunk
I was 17 again
in love,
and just as confused.
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