When I was a child they said I could write
But I just wrote poems about colours
The rainbow from red to blue
a paragraph for every hue
When I closed my eyes I saw red, not black, it’s true —
a riding hood, pale skin in summer —
the darkness shone with crimson light
It warmed me in my bed at night
but I still wrote about colours
Though I wasn’t kissed until I was eighteen
I learned how to make love to you in my dreams
That’s how I make you feel like you do
when you do
Valenteen
No great beauty, I stayed a child
while my friends were going wild
While they paired off two by two
the secret garden overgrew
The branches and the window touched
The vines came in
it was too much
I set a fire, burned alive —
the garden shone with crimson light
Though I wasn’t kissed until I was eighteen
I learned how to make love to you in my dreams
That’s how I make you feel like you do
when you do
Valenteen
You and I have loved before
Maybe we’ve loved even more
Maybe we will love again before our lives come to their end
Well if past, present, future run on parallel lines
I steal my love across all times
Gladly I resort to theft —
let’s spend it ’til there’s nothing left