Last Train Home

You swore as you grabbed my hand,
Pulled me away from streets
Where clubs and bars spilled people
Onto the frosty pavement.

Your hand in mine was icy,
Our breathing ragged,
Forming clouds of ice in the air.

You hesitated at a crossroad,
Eyes swung left to right,
Glaring at unfamiliar paths.
I laughed recklessly,
Pulled you down more dark streets,
Trusting instinct,
Ignoring the silent signposts.

My stiletto heels caught in the cobbles,
Slowed me down.
I kicked them off,
Ran barefoot
Down streets
Glistening with
Shattered glass.
I didn’t care.

Down the high street we stumbled,
Past shuttered shops,
Glowing windows.
Plastic mannequins watched us pass,
Painted expressions unreadable.

At the station you slowed
Eyes searching electric screens.
I saw our train
Pausing by a platform.
We tore across bridges,
Jumped down steep steps,
Stopped suddenly,
Brought up short,
By the silent train.

Inside, it was warm.
Relief made your features glow.
I breathed again,
Knowing that we had found,
The last train home.