Bright and tight

In Huddersfield
on a not warm day
under a not coloured sky
I met you.
Bright and tight as a pocket watch.

I wanted to eat you,
but instead settled for the shut lipped kiss
and the just missing.

Under your uniform
through your tights -
the only chance I got was park benches,

my head in your lap
pixelating the pleats of your skirt,
smell haggling with your thighs.

I could have bought you flowers,
signed your name over,
instead settled for the part time privilege.