The way you scanned your visa
I knew
The way you held your phone
Gave that pound
To the fu ck faced homeless
Scammer on the corner
I knew
The black
Choker around your neck
That could be broken
Unspoken
The clickety clack
The clickety clack
Of your heels
The grease on your cheeks
The lies queued
In your oesophagus
The fuc king fuss
The black choker
Around your neck
That could be broken
Unspoken.