You don’t need me for a Valentine

You don’t need me for a Valentine
piffled verse on a card
from unsustainable sources
that would make you cry

I won’t take you to Pizza Hut,
make you squelch through deep pan,
flavour you with processed garlic,
give you shrink wrapped roses,
or take the night bus home

Instead we’ll drink Cava on a bench
on top of Hampstead Heath
watch the post office tower
glow red from it’s mouth
leave half full
champagne glasses
on the wooden slats
for the cottagers night cap

We could walk downhill
to that pub you liked
(where they gave you a taste
of every ale they had
though you chose a spritzer,
they smiled anyway)
I’ll watch your teeth light
up the path between the trees
and as squirrels scurry
from your beam, I’ll
dare to touch your fingers.