I see you

in the reflection of the bus window
as I'm standing at a crossing

in the elevator of Russel Square Station
on the steel panel I am a
dancing shadow

opposite me
curving into the tunnel of
the tube
as I am blustering in the humidity
of a packed out train

You are always a surprise to me
I
forget
how much
we are alike

We are hurtling through the underground
and your face blurs into
film posters and faces of the
other people on the train.

Hip students with headphones and backpacks
Old couples with 'visiting the museum today' comfy shoes
Men in suits with laptops and ominous looking folders.

You pop back every so often in the glass.

Peeking at me.

Shadows and reflections reminding me that we are
in fact
one
person.


It is always unsettling
your resemblance is always uncanny

and I am always waiting for the realisation that
you and I belong

The man opposite stands up to exit the train and
I face you.
Alone.

We are both
Alone.

I am not quite sure how to approach you.

Instead, I take out my phone and I write you and me
a poem.

Hoping that maybe here
in this space

We come to be

us