Last Bus

Through the sleeping suburbs 
reflections of the drunk
couples of impassioned cocktails
mixing alcohol and lust
stirring with tongues entwined
shaken by fevered touch
homeward bound the unsuccessful
the single the faithful
bow their heads in screen light
fearing interaction
above the darkened tiles that protect
the Netflix addicted
the earth fails to hide the celestial rock
master of the tides
a clementine crescent breaking black
fired by the distant star
a sliver of golden beauty waxing above
a world on the wane
they saw not a wonder of the universe
mesmerised instead
by the glow of unsocial interaction
late night commuting
to individual worlds with only screens
to like and touch.
Ciaran Burke
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