Observatory Street, Oxford 2

Sitting each day

In the centre of things
Here on Observatory Street,
Avoiding all conversation
While scanning the news of others,
I fill in that time
Once spent with you
In this “continental” bar of ours
Interpreting the language of lovers.
The incline of heads,
Their nervous smiles,
The gestures of hands,
A speaking in tongues
I can barely remember;
A music of sorts.
Are you still sharing your
Practice of grammar in a
Darkened bedroom somewhere
Nearby Observatory Street?