Stained white paper
Splashes of dust on the nose of the sun
How wonderful to feel so ridiculous
Mounting my stupidity
trying to face my face.
I listened to her eyes
While drinking hot chocolate with cream on top
In Old Compton street,
Trying to understand the colours of this side
of the earth.
Gays, straights, whites, blacks
and in between.
Night clubs, bars, and mosques.
Rednecks, flat chests, bare feet
It’s Soho, she mumbled
Not recognizing her voice.
She smoked her head
Desperately and said
You are not listening to me
I threw it all saying why?
Stones falling on the walls
And red graffiti promising for more blood
Alone in this corner of the room
Spreading my palm on her face
Calling for the barbarians to come back for the feast
I extend my arm to the heavens
Reaching to my reflected face on its dark roads
Throwing up my words…
Her head is on fire
Desperately saying, you are not listening to me
I threw it all once more saying why?!