This is one of those ‘lie awake all night’ things
isn’t it?
Your face is small in the dark
of a thousand unlit street lamps.
Our coats couldn’t hold out the blusters
but our hands held
out the cold.
Your heart held out.
Your cigarette smoke hung on the air
and on your lips.
This is one of those lingering, quivering smiles
isn’t it?
Why won’t you let me sleep?
I’m waiting for you to explain.
And when you do
all my prayers will be answered.
Agitation of hands. Strength of words. 
Till then you are a slave of love. When the reply comes, you become the master.
Lets hope so Tom.