You are in your blue period -
turquoise swimsuit, buoyant in azure.
Behind your shoulder,
Brighton West Pier,
A snap taken at an amateurish angle,
you’re diving sideways into the waves,
the gaily painted structure
tumbling after you.
A day later, the pier burnt down.
Charred wooden bones,
black skeletal pilings stumped naked.
Vaudeville, lyceum, taproom, and arcade
once rocked beneath bunting and banners
now only...
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