tucking my umbrella in the bag.
All at once, I felt the morning air
reach in. The sky already starts to sag.
They all predicted it would rain today.
I shuffle down the street to meet Alain
for scrambled eggs and toast. The alleyway
outside his place is calm, and I pretend
that I’m the only one alive in London.
I must be early. I consult my phone.
The time glows palely at me—9:01.
Instead of buzzing him, I stand alone
and lean on brick. Tugging my shirt, I hope
he loves the colour: manila envelope.