Closing time at Laundry

The moment stings
like memories of your eyes
brimming with reproach.

The noise sparkles
like melting ice cubes,
wounded solidiers in a whisky glass.

Lads trade banter,
Eyeing quirky summer dresses
On clicking alabaster legs.

My heart unravels
You are such a gentle ghost
always with me, always silent.

I have memories that will last me well,
And I can recall how your face looked,
For every emotion.

I shall drive through the curving tunnel,
watching steady white ceiling lights,
Imagining blurry reds and warm ink blues...