Sailing
He couldn’t possibly know where she is going
She will be lying in someone else’s arms
A poet from Bristol
Who is reading another one about her
And she cries
He couldn’t possibly know where she will end up
She will be walking on a beach of pebbles
With a musician from Leeds
They are wondering what to do next
And she smiles
He couldn’t possibly know where her heart will go
She will be sitting alone in her high rise flat
One glass of red and two hundred pages to go
With an empty fridge and a wholesome soul
And she sings
He could possibly take her into his arms
She is sailing her way through the storm to him
New hair and brown eyes
With a heart ready to be inked
And she hopes
