Recalcitrant

There are no friendlies,

Only finals,

Reverberates in my head

as this train 

snakes through the tunnel

I wait, for explanation,

Why have you occurred to me,

You thought, me person

You came, I befuddled

The delicate trance, 

the art of spoken expression,

Doesn't live in any great detail.

And you my thought, 

lie interrupted,

Torn by the visual coitus with,

An oncoming passenger couple,

Unconsumated, since 

both of them didn't see me. 

And just as I recognise an accent,

I once plied,I realise 

you, the thought, 

they of the coitus, 

the new  boys of the accent,

No one is meeting me in this solitude