I catch you just as you slyly slink away,
the hideously trendy homme across, next
to you – peering to our volly of glances,
His Cos demeanor cool
by his atrocious cut chinos.
The deep rumble hurtles us along
the Victoria line -London’s blue artery,
it’s horizon a convincing night’s impression.
They were green
Or perhaps hazel
Our waltzing glances stealing covert gazes, Each a
second shy of a moment.
dressed as Mr Bond,
mask my clandestine interest.
-a Polish brunette,
two stops previous a Ghanaian queen
with bronze orbs scrutinising
the nothing passing the windows filled black.
eyes continue their dance
passing the minutes
between our arrival.
Our steps never drawing us closer