We kissed over the barriers at Blackfriars last night,
a lingering, lasting, lovesick exchange,
thinking nothing of the tutting, cheering, jeering crowd that gathered as you pulled away and ran for the last train,
and I wandered the city,
wishing I could do something productive with my longing.
A man asked me out for a drink,
and I was so submerged in feeling sorry for myself that I couldn’t even think up an excuse,
so I started monologuing about you,
this wild woman with a licence to thrill,
the power to kill all my brain cells with that sultry, scrumptious stare,
baring my soul,
pushing sweet spectacles up the bridge of her nose and smiling a knowing, taunting smirk.
He just babbled an excuse,
bemused and desperate to escape the lovestruck lunatic he’d stumbled upon,
so I let him go,
sinking back into the star filled, silent night,
whispering every inch of that kiss to the awestruck moon that followed me home.