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