Today a grey misted rain coats the streets and river. Obscuring the tops of the tallest buildings, flattening the city. Large droplets fall from the leaves above that have become heavy with gathered mist. Pattering the canopy overhead. A smaller and closer city on days like this. Searching for dry warmth indoors or at bus stops.
Two languages twisting in air
Religious words through compromise
Gold dangles at your earlobe
Stolen smiles between the two of you
Sniff and a rustle for tissues.
Net stretches, bending bodies
Nervous, a shove, a push, a giggle
Blessed by mothers
The back of your neck bends elegantly
We flirt with tears
Some more successfully than others
Petals and confetti pelted at you swirl softly about your bodies.
Imposingly beautiful, strong.
Tartan and lace catching like velcro
Woven but not bound
A photographer stands on a ladder
Freckles wink through fine netting
Vintage volvo but no tin cans
Pickled fish and haggis
You are different now
But no different to the people
in that small London flat.
“Freedom in small things
Unity in major matters
And love in all things”