Each evening we’d negotiate
An electric peace
While pacing green corridors
Following the colour coded stripes
Long as wagging tongues.
At some point a switch would flip
Tipping a nine volt contact
Ionic bonds tasting sweet and sharp
Like lemon chicken sauce
Licked up from the bottom of the plate.
You are better the second time around
Laying out your yellow flanks so tender
Battered, buttery before my blue foothills.
Snap frozen moments sit in the chiller
Ready for my phone raised in prayer.
Its glossy black monolith
Oblongs for kisses that sink
To the bottom of the Leith
Along with discarded shopping trolleys.
Paper picnic plates, wide and white
Cover each of my floating eyes.
Follow my story downstream.
Look up at the river in the sky
Open to past and present alike
An eclectic piece
Played in electric blue.