I don’t know if I’ve ever done anything
If, when I looked at the sea, it gave birth to red cherubs
Flying into the sky and entering the sun

If the iron gates of your soul
Became like a summer dress
On a designers studio table
Asking for restaurant takeaways
And filling in desk diaries

If I ever forced a change in the game
Where turnstile bowed to me like coachmen
And raised their hat and took my ladies bags
To the swimming pool surrounded by trees
With the singing of birds of paradise

Too quickly, I have to end it
As if hanging men were watching accusingly
The origami structure of love
That are too fragile to be allowed to be real