Manchester Piccadilly

The saltiness of cool rain

Gingerly grazing chapped lips,

Rolling down raised skin,

Splattering onto concrete.

Chatter drowns it out.

Twirling umbrellas dance in the air,

Keeping people arm distance,

Except one whose eyes are shifting,

Body is swaying in his suede coat.

Fingers trembling on a cigarette,

Letting the poisonous smoke escape his lips,

As he sways and checks his phone.

Nothing.

Bitter tears mix with salty rain on moist cheeks,

And the idle chatter is interrupted

By the shattering of the phone on the tracks

And the thundering footsteps of the smoker