Against a photograph of the two of them in their eighties

Into the bottom righthand corner of the frame

When he was dead and she was beginning her absence

She set a photograph of herself at eighteen

Black and white, she cut it out

From somewhere, she cut round

Herself so she was nowhere and alone

Laughing. Nobody commented

But there it is and see,

It says, how I looked when you fell in love with me

And I with you and didn’t we bear it out

To the edge and over the edge of doom?

Her montage in the dying living room.


from Nine Fathom Deep (Bloodaxe, 2009), © David Constantine 2009, used by permission of the author and the publisher.

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