Outline of London : the Day I Arrived

Suitcase in hand, scribbles of words, the world full of water.
On cobblestoned streets, passed by buses painted in passion, wet slick jacket. I saw what I heard, the day I arrived.

A cab spitting water.

Down the street where people are like wasps, searching trough aisles for the meat that caught their sent. I did not see its glory then, afraid to get my wallet stung.
I had to stop, the day I arrived.

Rain stopped falling.

Love’s offspring standing on the pedestal, big screens exploding, face painting, dancing people, rings of lingo and music. Crossing to places I have never seen. Forced a way I did not know, on the day I arrived.

Sun shines trough.

Narrow street, walls of lime gave way to the magnificent square. High above all of us Nelson holds his ground, guarded by the unfailing lions, where children in the sunlight is climbing, on the day I arrived.

Heat.

A man with a necklace matching mine, a girl with a peacock on her head, a lady feeding her toddler sugar, a man in Gucci snoring in a corner. No one notice, ‘cause everyone knows what I didn’t, on the day I arrived.

Clouds covering.

A beer in hand up on a balcony, the man underneath gets a boy to participate, in his magic trick. People shuffle too see some more. Beer in handbag. Wine on the white blouse. But sun cats dancing and everyone laughing, the day I arrived.

Red, orange and blue.

Standing on the bridge, man playing a guitar, the eye shines blue and the clock’s gong stays silent. Tiny lights of white, teeth everywhere, blowing on my dotted skin. A hand on my back. An embrace. I smiled, the day I arrived.

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