Trains

To this day, the smell of trains is the smell of sex
A heart pounding journey to a town 
where she would lead me by the hand, like a child

She was older, only by a year
But she was lust in my bones
Gweneth Paltrow in Morticia Addams’ dress
She smiled as if she knew a perfect secret
She spoke of sex like it was a possession 
She spoke the words out loud
Of cocks and cunts
That made me want to find a wall to lean on
She kissed me within seconds

I could barely breathe at the idea of her

It was 2 weeks until I touched her
Another 2 before I touched her inside a building
We made a home in teenage hideaways
All green and brown
Smothered sounds carried on an infinite breeze

Closing my eyes I can still see 
branches lacing fingers across the summer sky
Hiding its eyes as her mouth pulls every thought and every word and every breath from me.

When I saw her last, her hair had changed
There was a heartbreak to the truth that she existed
That after that goodbye she grew, she aged, she changed

A mother now

Suddenly the idea of her felt less real
and again I couldn’t breathe
As if my memories had lied to me

But still, to this day the smell of trains is that secret teenage smile
Those words I still don’t dare to say
Those warm mouth, sparks flying, branches

The smell of sex 
And her.