Not a red rose or a satin heart.
I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love.
Here.
It will blind you with tears
like a lover.
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief.
I am trying to be truthful.
Not a cute card or a kissogram.
I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are.
Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring,
if you like.
Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.
– Carol Ann Duffy
Tagged: Carol Ann Duffy, imagery, love poetry
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[…] the condition that she be taken, too. This poem reminds me of a couple of poems we’ve run; Valentine by Carol Duffy, and The Woman Who Could Not Live With Her Faulty Heart by Margaret Atwood. You can […]