I grew very fond of your pale blue ceiling

During our time together

I would watch the traffic shadows

Move playfully window to window to and fro

Without fail you always pissed

After we had made love

I loved seeing your pale bottom

Disappear into the en suite

These are now just memories

As you married someone else

But when my bus passes

10 Burton Street

I am back in your bed

Staring at your pale blue ceiling

And trying to make sense of our past