pretending to be Bridget Jones

Last year the town was much too full
and now the town is empty
I walked by where you used to live
through half the dark and lonely city
I dream of how I’ll meet you next
impersonal, like strangers
speaking too politely, as if
subjunctive verbs elide the danger.
you’ll wear the same grey ratty pants
and I my cool black cotton dress
I’ll barely give you half a look
but wonder if you noticed.

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