Look through March rain veils
into sunscapes and green, green, woodland.
Take the pinch of reality and throw it behind you.
Do not let the other Megabus passengers see.
Swallow a Fisherman’s Friend and travel.
Tannoys tinkle and it is three tomorrows
away and soaked in eucalyptus and tanging almost-pain.
Shudders turn to slipping lullabies
and windows open portal-wide
and now, breathe,
count to three … one … two …
and it is the turn for your eyes.
You have arrived.
Another man, dressed in imaginary nights
and dancing is waiting.
Hand him your lover’s last words on his tongue
and with your other, take a strand of his fairy hair.
Do not let the world tug you back.
Let him reach into his pocket and untuck a compact mirror
coated in the colour of heartache.
Take back your smile.