I left a footprint

I left a footprint Amongst the lights in Regents Street, A smile in a Monmouth coffee cup. I printed tickets at the V&A And at Victoria, Paddington and Kings Cross. I walked along the canal for hours in the mornings and the evenings, I watched the boats play music and sway to every season. I sat in every kind of pub, from Spoonies to Sam Smiths to Greene Kings, To Brewdogs, Craftbeers and more local, On every kind of sofa, chair and stool With every face I’ve ever loved We’d share some wine or beer And the empty glasses would stand around us Decorating our deepening trust. I witnessed belly laughs, glares and tears, I danced in darkened rooms until the lights turned bright and we’d stumble out, Warm and vibrating and confused by open space. I saw people in coats and shorts, In black and white and all the glitter you could find, Under rain and snow and cloud and sun In parks and benches and beer gardens. From trains to buses to overgrounds I made no eye contact and walked on the left. I ate the foods from street stalls and meal deals from the Tesco’s. I ate alone and ate in groups and ate with friends and strangers. I had the Brick Lane bagels and the Southbank baps, I tried the Soho ramens and the Ethiopian sponge and sat down at Persepolis with you. Our feet stuck to the Peckham Plex carpet and we popcorned our way into friendship at the Electric Cinema on Redchurch Street. I sang sometimes and shared some classes We learned to write and box and balance on our arms. I walked the streets for hours and every sight was engraved, Every smile recorded, every thought transformed And in the end I lived, I breathed, I loved, Within and around this city Every step shook every atom And I am full, so brimming full.