take me to London

Take me to London. I want to see the Thames. I want to stroll through Kensington Park Gardens. Take me to the Tate Modern. Let’s walk across the footbridge and admire the suspension holding us above the barges. We’ll look at the old power station with its straight lines and smoke stack and then we’ll head inside. Maybe it will be drizzling and the surreal art will be a reprieve from the British weather. Take me to London to see a West End show, maybe an Andrew Lloyd Webber recreation or maybe Les Mis for the 12th time. Take me to London and let’s go shopping. Let’s admire the prettiest things in Harrods and buy some tea at Fortnum and Mason. Let’s hold hands through the open-air markets. I want to go to London to hear the accents that feel so familiar, so natural, so much like what I should have heard all my life. Take me to London because I feel at home there and yet I am a foreigner. But take me to London and let’s pretend we live there. Let’s have high tea at Claridge’s and pretend we’re posh. Let’s call Bayswater our tube stop and we’ll live close by in a row house. We’ll grocery shop at the Marks and Spencer on the corner of Queensway Rd. We’ll make chicken curry. Take me to London and let’s eat at Geales for fish and chips. Let’s take cab rides once a week to test the drivers’ Knowledge. Take me to London and teach me British slang. Show me were the boot is and what it means to be cross. Take me to London. I want to feel the weight of pounds in my hand and buy Cadbury bars at tube stations. Take me to London. Take me to London. Take me to London. I miss it in the depths of me. Just take me to London and let me be.

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