dismal evening in which
the buildings stretched
taller, higher than
they did yesterday.
as i make my way through the city
i get the feeling you'll have seen me,
nervously counting down the minutes
to an inevitable greeting.
i spend all my money.
money which should be spent
on tickets to the strokes,
from a girl i accosted
after a monday exam.
my fly-about-hair
with going-grey-strands
is tugged at relentlessly
when remembering that you
liked it this way.
((or at least this is what you claimed.))
do i prepare for the worst?
but being the worst i have
no compromise. no way to dare
turn this night on its head
& refuse this fear
this feat.
suddenly you are at my side & we
are making an awkward path
past the awkward tiles.
& the silence,
it gets louder.
seeing through
your schemes by the end
of a short & futile affair.
oh, but it ends with a kiss on the cheek
& promises of the month after next,
while you travel back to where
my ancestry is locked in
poorly-shaped prisons
& poorly-told lies.
my favourite part is when
i take the bus back home.
alone & replaying every
movement in slow-
motion. then, relief
that i have won
this game.