Winter rains and window panes
And the banes of my existence
Dish racks and the swishing smacks
Of Paris in the distance
Sign online for a Valentine
Or a version of the New Year
Impersonating some young face of mine
Seen once in her mirror
Paloma has a voice
That is womanly and choice
And throaty in the moment
That she speaks
Met her once or twice
And it always was nice
But I've thought about her
When the midnight sneaks
Off to the vague dark blue
Again
When every brand of love I've bought's been
Marked up and expired
And the smell of pencils keeps me up
When childhood's rewired
I've talked to her till the strange daybreak and dawn
Got reacquainted
I've walked with her on mental sidewalks snowed on
And ice-painted
I've kept a cabinet of French verbs and backup contact lenses
Imaginary rescues that I guard with self-defenses
I sang to her for one whole night
In the silliest of tenses
On some sweet night I'll make her sing for me
As my throat clenches
Because Paloma has a voice
That is womanly and choice
And throaty in the moment
That she speaks
Met her once or twice
And it always was nice
But I've thought about her
When the midnight sneaks
Off to the vague dark blue
Again