Winter rains and window panes And the banes of my existence Dish racks and the swishing smacks Of Paris in the distance Sign online for a Valentine Or a version of the New Year Impersonating some young face of mine Seen once in her mirror Paloma has a voice That is womanly and choice And throaty in the moment That she speaks Met her once or twice And it always was nice But I've thought about her When the midnight sneaks Off to the vague dark blue Again When every brand of love I've bought's been Marked up and expired And the smell of pencils keeps me up When childhood's rewired I've talked to her till the strange daybreak and dawn Got reacquainted I've walked with her on mental sidewalks snowed on And ice-painted I've kept a cabinet of French verbs and backup contact lenses Imaginary rescues that I guard with self-defenses I sang to her for one whole night In the silliest of tenses On some sweet night I'll make her sing for me As my throat clenches Because Paloma has a voice That is womanly and choice And throaty in the moment That she speaks Met her once or twice And it always was nice But I've thought about her When the midnight sneaks Off to the vague dark blue Again