Turning right instead of left on Carver Road

at Nunhead you’re back

and the night’s a grey air 

so I tingle pink because you drive the same roads

walk the same paths

turning right on Carver Road

taking you past my house


but the next day

I’ve fallen under my exultation

it’s the Half moon in Pizza Express 

and sitting in the window

I can’t see your curtained eyes

you are like a man in a coma

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