victoria bus station

Perhaps they were on the thirty six to New Cross,
The passenger that looked down to see an early
Evening couple kissing. On their way home to a
Partner or a pet, to catch the ten o’clock news,
Drink a glass of Californian red, make some calls.
And they thought, for no more than an instant, Fuck, I
Remember once kissing someone like that, I don’t
Remember where or when, but it brings it back, the
Way that dance used to feel, how real it was, like I
Was kissing with all my love wrapped up into that,
I don’t know, that moment, I don’t know, but I do
Remember.

Then the bus rolled away and they
Turned their head to catch a last glimpse of the thing they’d
Forgotten they used to know, but the couple had
Gone or the bus had moved too fast so the
Passenger returned to thinking of how their day
Had gone, the victories and defeats, and the things
They’d like to do if they ever got home.


25.11.04