Bright
primary colours. Bright day-glow primary colours
leaping away from the clothing and associated
by a distance
with these walking bodies.
On the grey to grey horizon, red lights lifted high,
the cranes beginning work
wondering if the winds will pick up.
Yesterday I invented a memory.
A memory of colour.
This memory is real now.
Yesterday I invented a memory.
Today I invented a memory.
Tomorrow I invent forgetting and the fog
which we must re-paint soon.
Rolling back the metal floor, how difficult it was for me to leave
these habituated situations whose perfume
I presumed I was enjoying.