Is this love that I'm feeling&;#063;

I shrink into the dark
at the station carpark's
edge, still on the low
brick wall; a pool
of flat lucozade light
laps my feet

moths spiral up
through leaves limned
with sticky orange glow
to the streetlamp's pouring
bottle-mouth

in this place I don't know
as well as the back
of your hand
I wonder what love is?
recall all the films where
lovers reunite at stations
as with the relief
of a dislocated joint
clicking back in its socket

hope rises on a step
eyes swerve from a stranger's face

I check my mobile for text
read "bus really slow
b with u soon" and wish I knew
how to reply

the next train comes and goes
tired people shuffling like cards
all facing one way

in the lull a car
pulls in bass thumping
over laughing shrieks
doors slam. One boy and girl
go to the ticket office, emerge
bickering. Doors slam
the tune changes

someone from the platform
goes for chips
returns dipping into paper
and licking lips
crumples and drops it
I slump as square, forlorn

then you round the corner

and I leap up for a hug
but you shrug it off "sorry
dying for a wee"
and I can't stop laughing
in the fizzing night
as you dash into the bushes
rustle
silence
rustle
you, smiling

I'd thought I wanted
a man who'd not see
my bad points like a criminal's trail
strong enough that I could be weak
hide the hunted
in walls of his self belief

but I was wrong
I NEED someone who
doesn't care
for convention
delights in invention
sharing my fears
sets me free
for madness
is a solitary a state

later you mine
from a clattering heap
a tape of your songs
say you've no voice
but I find the bravery
of your choice to make
sounds sweet as honey
across the sting of pain
swells my heart

and when you go through
all your music
ask if I like Bob Marley
one of his lines
springs to my mind
and I think
"yes"