The Onion

I love February.  It's Valentine's Time.

Celebration of Love #1: a great love poem.  I found this while teaching language arts in Philly.

Valentine
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

Carol Ann Duffy is a contemporary British poet.  She's said, "I like to use simple words but in a complicated way.”  Good example.  The first poet I loved is Edgar Allen Poe, and so my taste developed early with a tinge of eeriness. 

Because of this poem, I intended to give my boyfriend an onion for Valentine's Day once.  My roommate interceded, telling me it miiiight be too soon to unleash all my quirkiness on the day of love.  I gave him some Ed Hardy temp tattoos instead and we put them on each other.  And, coincidentally, he gave me an Edgar Allen Poe love poem attached to some dark chocolate. 

He probably could have handled the onion.