Dumb little portals
of memory. Best
friends you’ve never
met. Boyfriends you’
very good looking. I
saw you there, sitting
at that desk, pencil-
tip to mouth. Or was
it an eraser? Funny how
Erasure is a band. The
electricity in the brain
goes limp, hurtles; inside
the skull-cum-galaxy. The
people you really know.
