Archival Gray

[Verse 1]
Your face in pixels, thumbnail-sized and bright
Against the brick of Bow Church, winter light.
A geotagged ghost on a cracked screen.
The coldest blue I think I've ever seen.

[Chorus]
Into archival gray.
That space where the name was.
One press away.
And I almost say it.

[Verse 2]
A voice note saved, the DLR's low hum.
That rust-red pin where the river had become
Our private estuary, the silty taste.
A whole year's scaffolding I have to waste.

[Chorus]
Into archival gray.
That space where the name was.
One press away.
And I almost say it.

[Bridge]
'You'll delete this all,' you said, one Tuesday night.
Two-forty AM, under sodium light.
And I said nothing back.
I just said nothing back.

[Chorus]
Into archival gray.
That space where the name was.
One press away.
And I almost say it.

[Outro]
The screen goes dark.
And I almost—