the day slipping by
like the underground train
it goes too quick for me
my body hurts,
the skin on my head aches
around my skull.
A slow walk in the sunshine
and remembering, feeling it
how sometimes
London looks beautiful
feels possible
Like I could take this hangover home with me,
and even as it holds me,
I could take that new flower from its pot
and give it some soil of its own
some new soil to call home