D. likes figs. And soccer and every single movie with Jude Law. And he likes ‘The Tiger and the Snow’ because it was actually written by Roberto Benigni. 

He smells like freshly washed clothes and cigarettes.

His eyes have the color of a frozen lake.

He’s passionate about cooking and he’s my master chef when it comes to cooking pasta for us.

He can’t stand stupidity or Kate Moss or cats.

He’s got very pretty teeth and a lot of beauty spots (I have a favorite one that is on a hidden bit that nobody else can see).

He never refuses me anything.

He’s my everything.

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.

—	“Valentine” , Carol Ann Duffy