The Vanishing - Stars

Tremor of light

The sky, a porcelain wall

Landing at Heathrow, a Tuesday in the fall

You are sleeping next to me

I just let go your hand

I hope I can go through with this

I hope you understand

I leave you dreaming in row twelve

Run quickly down the escalator

At customs I am first in line

You wake now, it’s three minutes later

I am gone

M40 night

London, a blur behind me

Leave from Heathrow at the dawn

No one will ever find me

You will look for five more days

You will trawl the city night

Then you’ll make yourself forget me

I’ll fade into the half-light

I am gone