A dervish of limbs
She spins into our carriage
Suitcases and purses wheel
Under our noses, I count leather
From at least five hides
The ground rushes out beneath
As we unzip across London
She rummages, sits and huffs
Breathing out her activity
My a to b feels as long as infinity
I watch as the metronome slows
Her movements to atrophy
With the clickerty clack
Languor rises around her limbs
Till eventually, in the tunnel
Lolling head hits the darkness
And her double appears,
Bordering the carriage
A light ghost, free of luggage
I catch a hungry eyed other
Watching her intently
Looking right through
Repulsed, I turn my head
And know the other did too
