I remember how things all began
And your face, ill and brittle and pale.
Our classes with dinner at ten,
Our greetings, surprisingly stale.
And our friends that would not get away
When we wanted to talk about stuff.
Yes, they asked me whenever I stayed
At their place: “Is it really love?”
I remember how everything changed,
I would not understand what is wrong.
How in fever, completely deranged,
You were humming your brother's old song.
I remember the doctors' routine.
Their tests, and their syringes, lies,
When they told me that you were all clean,
With a tumour between your blue eyes.
I remember how things were all done,
I would not let a second amiss.
But I felt at the end of the run,
I was staring right at the abyss.
I remember my things I received.
I remember not feeling regret.
I don't know if you'd ever forgive.
But I don't think I'll ever forget.