Commuter

Commuter 

Rain hits the window and

I worry it will leak through onto the sill

running into the cotton of my jumper

as paint does on watercolour  

Your face laces my thoughts

like bunting at a summer fair

dusting my day with longing

The idea I’m alone in this unreeling

nags and pulls, twisting into a

tumour. It was once the size of a pea

but now it fills my skull,

chest, throat  

The bus pulls into the stop - dinging

You say you miss me too