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| When Vince and I were at Monument Station, London |
There, he stood holding the steel post, and the slanted light
Of the dying sun lit up the comic book he held.
Here, he caught me when a sudden curve
In the tracks made me fly straight into his arms.
There, we laughed at the unmoving cars below us—
the rush of speed and our pumping blood thrilling our veins!
Here, our lips first met, strangers charging past us,
In and out the train, going to... who knows where?
Now…
I am running away from the boy
Who changed his mind, who stands
There on the platform, pretending I’m not
Here.
