My tears – what do they matter?
This morning I got the newsletter –
That boy from Madrid
Had jumped on a tube train to work –
To get to the store, as usual,
To unload the boxes all day...
Shut my ears,
Close my eyes
As asked the marvellous Georgian poet!
I don’t want to see
His way to the bloody shop!
He was only nineteen
And I was his longest love –
Oh, bring back the life
To his lips –
The brightest ones I’ve ever seen...
Give me his honey thighs,
Fluffy torso
And silky ass –
I’ll go insane without him,
The West End is hell without him,
I can’t see the sky
Without his Spanish eyes.