St Valentines day.

I have never really seen the need to buy soppy cards accompanied by chocolates, flowers and all manner of fluffy members of the animal kingdom. I have told Tracy I love her, every day for nearly 21 years. I don't feel the need to prove it, to her or me. Instead, a poem:

Valentine - Carol Ann Duffy.

Not a red rose or a satin heart.

I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love.

Here.
It will blind you with tears
like a lover.
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief.

I am trying to be truthful.

Not a cute card or a kissogram.

I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are.

Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring,
if you like.

Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.