Returning to the city we both left behind for real love,
I am pleased to learn that no one remembers my name.

Finding the epicenter is easy in the aftermath of an earthquake.
One must only follow the damage. I return to the bar by the sea.

Everybody bicycles at least once a day past the scene
I thought we had created solely: bodies bent toward each other,

tired waves overlapping, drunk laughter. Everybody thinking
about the next line to deliver. The waitress’ endless shift.

I watch the cast members age slowly,
while softly I pretend I am lonely.

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