He’s a disappearing act –

total, acclaimed, his name
on everyone’s lips: where’s

he gone, Mr Vanishing?
And he and I? we were

the triumphant duo,
so inextricably linked, as if

the two of us might plunge
into the Thames – for love,

for always, bound around
by double chains and indefatigable

locks. But no, it was just him
who jumped into the tight-lipped river,

while I watched and waited
and waited still. Till someone tells me –

but this is later, much later –
that they’ve seen him in a diagonal

street, in a parallel life,
shaking water like diamonds

off his coat,
small flashy diamonds.