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  • Ashy Akakpo


Little bits of winter, glazed with snow

The wintry chills revolve around me as the wind blows

I wrap my scarf across my throat.

You stand there staring, not completely

But incompletely. You watch as I take a couple steps

Towards a traffic light, my mind blank as the expression on my face

Lights speed pass me, twinkling my eyes

In a daze I step back, holding tightly to my wit

Not trying to slip

The birds beep like air hones as a busy crowd rush down

Into the mouth of Piccadilly underground.

I look at my phone, thinking you’ll say something.

You’ve seen me. But I haven’t seen you.

I stand still, the wind echoing thoughts into the crescents in my mind

The time. The time.

I look down at the number plates on each and every car.

I see it. Thinking it was you, you press the collar of your coat

Tightly to your chest like the barrow of a boat

I hurry towards an Audi coloured blue

Hesitant of course because,

Uber isn’t what I usually like to do.


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