ZAYANI BHATT – YORKSHIRE

 

 

meet me at st pancras

 

 

meet me at st prancras she said;

hair whipping as she turns just as he running, stops.

bag thuds down, she leaps

.

.

.

eyelids shut

lives, stories and colours ram into one spectacular collision

as the world around them blurs.

 

meet me at st pancras she said

his eyes drink her in their lips, so soft, cling for those precious few minutes.

Stolen.

Lovers hiding from the world,

begging for that safe haven –

of her.

 

meet me at st pancras she said

a few more minutes he pleads

her curls shake as he turns away.

Again

pauses, her heart splintering on the cold stone floor.

“I can’t…………………….”

 

meet me at st pancras she said

the words join their ancestors

the only constant for these Entwined hearts

that beat, drums in unison

as their fingers stretch out for

one

last

touch.

 

The train’s whistle blows.

Tears fall like rain.

Anger at her parents stabs her soul

as she whispers

 

meet me at st pancras.