I see them now, mother and son
Some distance from me, partly hidden by one
Of a dozen Formica partitions that lull and con
Partitions that lull and con
Middle-class matrons and young lovers on trains
Into a false sense of privacy
Lulled into that: fair, forty and fat
Holds her unreluctant cherub in an embrace that
Is very disturbingly familiar
He sits on her lap, forward faced
Her right arm fully encompasses his waist
Palm pressed at his breast, for maximum contact
Circles caressed on a hairless cheek
Petulant questions, but she doesn't speak
Translucent ears buried under parental kisses
Disturbingly familiar, forty and eight
I suddenly realise that last night
THIS was EXACTLY how I'd held you