scent
of her skin
of her cunt
of her hair
it makes me close my eyes and breathe in
it makes me hungry
it musters up such appetite
that can't be satiated here
on the Northern Line
at 7am

and her scent
comes to me
unexpectedly
across this city
and immediately fills me
with a longing
to taste her

and this is no good

it adds a touch of love
to an otherwise
innocent fuck

and that's a dangerous ingredient
in my book

my book
a catalogue
of distances and depths
a compendium of solitude and death
of ecstasy,
of honesty,
of the valiant sod I used to be,
something to flick through
whilst waiting for game