much like the lyrics of a song
the time that I saved you on the road
the time that I read you a story
without the use of a book
the time that we made love
in so many different positions
that you nicknamed me Elastagirl.
the way that I crinkle up near worms
the way that I lick my fingers
after eating chips, how I smile
when I’ve just said something
I thought was incredibly clever.
I told you to come with me, remember?
I told you that we should be a permanent team
or did that slip your mind
in between recalling the days that I stayed with you
in the hospital or the times that I cooked for
your children as if they were my own?
everything, like a stenographer
all the details of who I used to be
because the memory making stopped
right there where it ended.
You seem to forget what is most important
about these recollections-
The fact that a long time ago
You told me, no.
Don’t worry, baby,
Clear as a death knell.