She said -on that big spired bridge,
Lungs frozen and full of that
Old Thames wind.
"I will not be bound!"
I am quiet
At her shoulder
Wrapped in scarves and smirks
Thinking she looks beautiful,
Screaming at London again.
I hear the hands turn
On that big old clock
Tying time in heavy knots
I want to tell her
"Oh but we are"
As we walk, skipping
Scree stones down Borough High.
We're here, held in thrall
Chained by the face
Of that force she so decries.
I keep my peace and pace
As the city swallows the night.
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