You would assume valentine’s night to be loud
With fireworks, moans and maybe melodies
You would expect the night’s sky to be a kind of soft orange
Reflecting the mellow of new-found and patience of long suffered love
But the drag of everyday woes etches itself onto the atmosphere
And tonight feels like every other –
Plain and drained –
Like the world has gone to shreds and only lust not love is in the air.