Infatuation on the rails.

As my mind goes in overdrive thoughts swim like black tadpoles ready for action in the little container. Their tails are really swishy; not.Sea of gold, ivory and silver are in my thoughts.

The chain, the dress and studs are ready for a buy me pick up but the wallet runs dry like a sand road in my engine of dreams.
My head bops cause I'm a londoner; We all listen to our ipods and pretend to be engrossed in our music when we arre fully aware that we are rushing for nothing most of the time. We take out our oysters like their fire extinguishers in a array of flames and clutch them like oxygen tanks. I see you in the physical mixture of people rushing and heading for the central.

I feel so hot and see your kicks stamp out the ground which me feel more heat.The kicks are white dirty lacostes; hmm how odd.6ft man-boy, muscular but slim by the looks of the pink fred perry tennis top.A black cascade of locks that could be mistaken for a dark river.

Big eyes.

I bluntly follow you and stand near you at the west bound platform.And then the train comes after an agonizing 60 seconds; a lifetime on london's underground. We both go into the same space.My alien bold stare tries so hard not to meet you dreamy peepers but then you ask me for directions and chaos takes place in my brain.

To be continued......