A doctor’s mask;

leech-like, sealed tight.
The downward escalator, a Japanese girl’s mouth.

Her; scared eyes.
Us; spewing lipped.

Going up,
so,
the kiss that I blow,
is a match that I have flicked;

a tweezer for her tic.

My aid to operation,
X,

(a kiss).

Notting Hill Gate by Raoul Colville