Portfolio

London, Darling

by Elani Spencer

Quick flashes of a strangers’ smile blurring

like the adverts outside the scuffed tube windows: Mylee nails. “Survives longer than your last relationship!”

A homeless woman screaming on the edge

of the platform threatens my existence

or challenges my silence?

I make it to the next stop.

A group of accented boys check my pockets while I’m nose-deep in someone’s sweaty armpit.

They let me keep my credit card.

The one with cash back perks. What is the currency exchange again?

A cherry Ciao beneath the automated “Mind the Gap.”

Blessimo, says the Italian woman with dark, truffle curls.

She has diabetes too.

A disease I thought would break me, breaks language barriers.

A conversation starter for two

nervous diabetics looking for community

in a student lounge.

A line skip at the Black Pig, the roar

of tourists and melted cheese

surrounding me in Borough market.

A pricked finger reaching

and never finding home, blood trickling

into a too-big pond but

they say Londoner’s are rude.

Maybe in England, kindness is only reserved

for those who need it most.