Faces Melting

The rain keeps pouring
And the creeping gloom
Of the bus shelter
Flickers;

You’re not here
And unless
I’m well mistaken
You’re not coming.

I miss the way
Your cheek bones
Almost break skin
When you laugh
At my ways,

Your fingers
Nibbling
On my neck.

To my left
The chapel and
The high rise flats
Stand strong,
Puncturing the sky,

Oceans of grey,
Freckles of light.

I have
A drunken cut
Down my face,
Two buttons
Have fallen
Off my shirt,
One of my trainers
Has a hole
In the sole,
I zip up and run,

Missing you,
Trying
To hate you,

Waiting for
The hidden sun
To sink.

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