I live soulsick
on the wrong side of the road,
where the dog **** on the pavement
dampens the unfathomable beauty
that is this city’s beating heart.
Yet I met this girl in the rain
who’d dropped ham and eggs
on her way home from the shops.
Not thinking, I broke through
the barrier that we who live here
***** on a daily basis
in metros, markets, and museums,
and I carried her shopping home.
I spoke of the weather,
how it was like home for me,
and she was gobsmacked
at this unselfish display.
“How can I thank you,” she asked,
“just do this for another,”
I replied with a light heart
and I still remember the sincerity
of her grateful smile,
all the while thinking
“Gosh you’re so pretty behind your mask,”
as I walked away from her flat
at the end of day.
Here on a bed I know too well,
I still think of that lovely girl.
There are no words to save me
from thoughts of what might have been.