reserved ticket

We take a risk
and pretend to be
two other people -
quiet at first,
not wanting to draw attention
to who we are not.

We worry
that they might still be looking
for their seats

and stare
through dark reflections
at sidings, and half-lit streets.

But the further we get from London
the more our voices
break free of whispers
and we dare to joke
and laugh about work,
and drink a little
too much.

Until we forget
about who we are meant to be.

Tristan Moss

If you have any thoughts on this poem, Tristan Moss would be pleased to hear them.