Fifty Years On

by Lise Day

A kiss that lingered
strawberries
deep in my mouth
many nights
the taste the touch
the hot flush

Here he is now
his eyes sweep over me
no recognition
‘Surely you remember?’
Plump garlic breath
‘Was it good?’ he asks

Mortified
mind reeling
wasted dreams
on the way home
I remember
(I hope)
it was his brother.

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