Victoria

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
underpinned
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.

I
dressed as Mr Bond,
mask my clandestine interest.
scanning left
-a Polish brunette,
two stops previous a Ghanaian queen
with bronze orbs scrutinising
the nothing passing the windows filled black.

And our
eyes continue their dance
passing the minutes
between our arrival.

Our steps never drawing us closer

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