Discussing reality and what is true,
‘It all is an agreement,’ so you say:
‘What goes for one, a bloody lie to others,
If I claim love is red, now would you disagree?’
‘It is not up to me,’ I answer modestly,
More modestly than you might have expected,
‘If you claim that it is, then let it be.’
‘But love is not,’ you say. ‘Love has no colour.
As all love needs is clear transparency.’
I change the way I sit and try to find justifications
To much enforcement of my case.
I know I never win it from your strange argumentation
So I just kiss you to put you in your place.
The blushing in your face is evidence enough.
Reality is what we make of it and so is love.