There is something astonishing within you

You whispered sex things in my ear, took my hand
we both switched our phones off
then on again the next morning
my bedroom walls echoed with the beep beep beeps
asking where you were.

That day at work it was like nothing had happened
apart from an occasional glance and smile and then you told me
that next time you would make the bacon
because mine had been too crispy.

For the next month we spoke in this exciting secret language
it was like the two of us had murdered someone
I had accidentally tripped an electrician down the stairs.
and now he was in the boot of your car.
The only thing we knew for certain: we were in this together.

“You do know this can't continue?” you said, “because of all this.”
You gestured at the open plan office but when I turned to look it seemed
all our colleagues had rearranged their chairs
into the shape of a love heart.

But I was worried too. I was so in awe of you
it was like you were Jesus and I was a disciple
not Matthew or John. One of the crap ones who stood at the back
never got a mention in the bible. I was Bjorn.
I'm pretty sure there was one called Bjorn.
You preached your sermons and I'd hang on to every word.
I hated those other disciples. They all thought they knew you so well
but I had seen your iTunes
we had shared those bacon sandwich mornings

where you told me things they will never know
like your love of miniature railways.
Your granddad drove steam trains and since he passed away
you've found yourself reading the books
he specifically requested were left to you in his will.
You and your now fully recovered brother now go on trips to stations
of significance for railway enthusiasts

and when you told me these stories I wanted to consume you.
It was like going on Amazon to buy an entire seven season HBO box set
on the basis of a promising trailer.
Do you want this product gift wrapped?
More than you can ever possibly believe.

I am so glad we killed that electrician.
I hoped he'd be a martyr for our domestic bliss
but I know it is unlikely that things will go any further.
I can sense the end credits are about to roll any moment
Morse has solved the murder and is having a celebratory pint with Kevin Whately
and Coronation Street is due to start.
There is no time for more plotline.

But what if for once Corrie was delayed
and the next scene was two characters stealing a steam train
a dead electrician in a rolled up piece of carpet
the whole nation saying “How come this is on?”
but in the minute it takes for them to check their TV Guide they'd be hooked
by me and you on prime time
a confused continuity announcer saying
Coronation Street will be broadcast
after this unexpected live footage.
Me shouting “Fuck you Rita Fairclough! This is our turn!”
people on their settees saying “I don't know who these two are
but look at them together!”

and I can honestly say that in all the time I was with you not once
did I notice the camera crew filming our every move
the baffled director wanting to shout cut but allowing the camera to keep running
and I feel as bad as anyone that because of me and you
ITV had to rearrange its schedule
and I know we will never get our own series
but I'm glad it's not just me now who has noticed
there is something astonishing within you.