Fogged Windows Overlook

I'm just the plus-one

who became the point In the back of the double-decker night bus

Pressing my palm to the glass to clear the fog Still holding

the receipt I don't need

And the headlights slice the grey

We're climbing up, away

On the overlook

we stand in the cold air

Helmet off, the engine quiet at last

We are looking down

on the city below

Nothing left to

say

But I look at the paper in my hand

And realize I paid for your ticket

out of here

You've been planning this retreat from the start I was just the

alibi

Leaving it on the seat...