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A thin grey space

Tangerine and pink are being worn in town,

Squirming beneath a flat, grey slab of sky,

Shuffling the streets with swivelling hips right down

Into the tunnels in heels that are high.

Here come all the young girls arching their necks,

Tossing shiny sheets of hair from a face

Here, painting lips red there, oozing with sex

Across a garish aisle, a thin grey space.

Here we sit with eyeballs pinned like a seam

Anywhere but upon each others' limbs.

Yoked by this journey in a groaning team

Face to face, eye to eye, as the light dims

On our new clothes like a tangerine pall -

And things have learned to walk that ought to crawl.