The Girl at the Bus-Stop

i saw her,

a revelation in glorious technicolour,

standing by the bus stop,

she smiled at me,

wrenching my heart off my sleeve.

i see her still,

now in faded black and white,

wondering where she may be, after all these years,

months, days, moments,

with time trickling through our lives,

knotting destiny into a silken weave,

time, wicked time,

slipping away,

down fate’s random sieve …

love lost …

I whispered that I loved you,

all those yesteryears ago,

when love burned bright,

under our shared African night.

Now the years have past,

trickling away into the drain of time,

I still whisper that I love you,

after all these years that have rolled on by,

though into other ears,

and only half a lie …

do you remember me ?

do you remember

me ?

scribbling verses on your bare back ?

in some alleyway of memory,

lost between some fragrant detour.

i hope,

that it meant something to you too,

for if not, then i am truly lost,

a desolate castaway,

a bit player in a sad story,

that was always,

always,

far too good to be true …