Doppelgänger

I’ve seen dozens of you about the Fylde,
face all vape, fatigue, some wild sense of
beard, black hair to border it all. Oiled
up Kieran, out cold in the ring; pensive
Kieran, pacing the promenade; I’ll have
spent my own self in this loop of turning
and returning to Asda checkout checking
out what must be your eyelids on the cashier.

It’s tiresome— keeping up with it, learning
your new names. The nights that crack open
like a Strongbow come cloying back; here,

you point, Orion’s belt, your face all teeth,
me not knowing for certain where your finger
points, you, buckled up, almost onto something.

Scott Lilley lives on the Fylde and is studying for a PhD at Lancaster University, his previous work can be found in Wet Grain, 3:AM, and Butcher’s Dog among other publications. Instagram: @poetrytalkingguy