The Lexington

She looked like the bad guy from an 80's movie

With her plaid chequered trousers and her martens on her feet

Making her two feet taller than the pylon of myself

Coasting above the crowd of the Lexington, above a crimson coloured fog

I saw a girl sway like a god, like a god

Ancient ritual between her teeth, glinting in the winter of mixed drinks

A god, like a god, she beckons and i believe

I believe, I believe it

A shock of pink that fades to tangerine, lit up with sequin, christmas tree

Amid the chandelier, pentonville and old veneers

That peel away to scuppered floors, cramped staircase and borrowed walls