I head to the lions, lost and searching
Cashpoint diversion with lifeless mobile
Stumbling legs now trembling
Head spinning with the cold whispering sobriety
Tugging on the hem of my skirt
As legs turn to bubble-wrap
Nylon lattice goosebumps
Serenaded by blurred bravado and retching
Half-heard lewd entreaties
Sniggers and cigarette smoke
The paired kings watch, impassive
Professional staring match with granite faces
Played at by the weekend paddy wagon
As you detach from the crowd, step down
Approach, loaded with smiles
Streetlights reflecting off your bald pate
Arms spreading wide, tattoos writhing with anticipation
Horned stag meets hen
Your head doesn’t turn as your pack move on
Ushered by the breathy cold of the square
Up Pelham Street into the middle distance
Wasting no time with whispered entreaties
I feel the radiated heat of your body
A nod of the head, half-smile, raised eyebrow
“Could do with a bit more privacy, eh?”
Paw tugging at my sleeve
Peck Lane’s narrow enclosure
Night sky, reduced to a dark strip
Quick touch shock-rush
Like a sherbert straw
Parting my innocence
I gave you what you wanted
Your legs trembling now too
Barking a warning, teeth bared
Intruders turning back with wide eyes
You quickstep ahead, scanning the square as we emerge
Stretching tall now, frowning, head turning
Searching for your audience
As sodium lights cast indecent shadows
Scurrying and tripping in your wake
I trail uncertain, trophy sensing disappointment
As you cross the square with brisk strides
Wheel as I wait for your eyes to come back to me
Your shoulders slump, you take my tentative hand
And tense
Lead me again
I lean across as we walk together
Then outflanked and accosted
You pull away resentful
Eyes narrowed
Resorting to groping for change
Flinging it dismissively
As I wait, impassive
From bright lights and banter
Slurred orders and fried reek
Where an old man sits
Statuesque at the head of the procession
Staring at my lap
To the mêlée at the taxi-rank
Resolving itself into individuals
Our respective familiars
As we draw instinctively away from one another
Parting wordlessly
Still chewing chips
I move left
You move right
Parting slap to the rump a crowd pleaser
Grinning, already turning to embellish
As I climb into the squawking taxi
A leering thumbs up
Lost responsibility
Recounted in muggy relief
Reviled in twittering melodrama
Sordid soap opera shrieks
Steamed up windows
I find I’m still clutching
The gypsy’s rose
Romantic memento
Symbol of love
In Old Market Square
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