Oh Sophie, no Sophie So sorry, you left crystal blue persuasions No warning, you left my coral feet reefed, fleeting for cold fired bricks streets, in heels on the walls, well lit Too bright for you to see: these red lit walls
and Sophie, do recall better moons saw, my heart teeming with an ambient glow in our seasons, when we lay on the hills of Soufrière So extravagant those eruptions You trembled when lava poured freely into the Port of Amsterdam No walls, no *****.... Sophie?
How, my dutch, now? These red lit walls, so lewd and menstruating stands as glass windows between us and these strong, macho ***** forged with Finish arms, like Heini Koivuniemi look-alikes muscling my heavenly pleas to the hellish red walls in De Wallen