for those who yell at the rain
i have a bouquet of tulips
for those who roar when it snows
here are some fresh roasted almonds
for you, when you point with your finger –
chocolate, wine and sweet apples
for you and your disdainful stare –
sit down, i’ll massage your cold toes
for me, who forgets to just cuddle:
this song from a bird on the roof
for me, tasting bitterness when i wake up
a buttercup.