Who is Andy S?
Is he a soldier, a mason, a man in a dress?
Who is this mystery man who you speak to?
Does he write, does he dance? Is he good at Sudoku?
Who is the chap that sits in your phone?
Can he speak French, make you laugh or listen t’your moans?
What does he look like, this Andrew Sierra?
Tall dark and handsome? Or maybe a carer
of small woodland creatures, or maybe a nan,
on a little wooden boat off the coast of Japan.
Trawling for spoons in an ocean of knives
is he single or gay, does he have seven wives?
Who is this fellow that causes infinite sadness?
That opens the way to my descent into madness?
Why does he take you away from the now?
From the here, from the me, does he give you his vow?
The same that I give you, night after night
as the sky opens up and I step into light.
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