Where was the tenderness lost

In our stripey t-shirts we say

that although things are different now

let’s always be here for each other

and we both get in our waiting taxis

that keep pulling up besides each other

in the slow-moving traffic and because we are

so familiar with heartbreak and departures we know

just to keep our heads down, not to engage

with animated face games, we have both

told our stories, it’s been plenty, we have designated

next stops. Our taxi drivers know

not to talk to us, there must have been

so much of this, on the back seats

of all the beautiful taxis of the world.

The black cabs are the ones that get on

TV and films but it’s the normal cars I spend

Most of my time in and when I wake up

There isn’t a text message saying ‘good morning’

But that is life now, I remember being so devastated

when it happened for the first time, heartbreak,

knowing there would be no more letters arriving,

no more handwriting, the stamps, the brightly coloured

envelopes, thinking of you

standing at the post-box.