Later, that same evening, she ran.
I think she ran alone.
Later, she had early warning from
a hidden phone.
Checked with the embassy –
she might have been
a million miles away.
Should I circulate her likeness
at all airports without delay?
It was later –
later that same evening.
Earlier, we had had a drink or four
in some Kensington hotel.
Hard – it was hard to keep my mind
on what she had to sell.
And with all business done
we took a cab –
should it be her place or mine?
Good security prevailed
and I was home just after nine.
It was later –
later that same evening.
Now I want you back.
Yes, they want you back.
We want you back.
My country wants you back.
Back.
Back.
Later, in the wee small hours
there was heavy traffic on the radio.
Scare at a channel port –
small craft warnings to keep to shore.
Lobstermen thought they saw
a submarine
half submerged suspiciously.
Though I arrived too late,
I'm sure she blew a kiss to me
as the sub sailed out to sea.
Now I want you back.
Yes, they want you back.
We all want you back.
My country wants you back.
Back.
Back.