I found you in my bed last night,
just three 8mm frames.

You were in that long white hippy dress, your hair glowing in late sunlight,
(one evening playing with the dogs).

I didn’t tell my wife.
Unlike those years with you, she hasn’t been through a film making love affair
finding cut frames, peeled off splicing tape,
curved ends of white leader that stick to your skin. Your body.

Everywhere. Until now.

I hope she’ll understand.