I would often wake up in middle of the night
And clutch at lost memories in darkness.
Sometimes I succeed. Scents, sounds, sights
Come flooding back, and I am plunged back
To two years ago, your hand in mine
As we threw all our troubles and caution to the wind.
I would see fragments of your radiant smile –
Fragments, because my feeble mind cannot –
It cannot comprehend abstract concepts like beauty.
But sometimes I fail, and I am left in the darkness
With a mind and memory as clouded as the inky blackness
Of the lonely and decrepit room. Again, I am reminded –
I am reminded of my sudden solitude. A year ago –
was it a year ago – a year ago –
I lost you. I lost you to life, or rather its sudden absence
In your being. The inevitability of disease has taken you –
But I could never prepare for your loss. Those days I wondered
If with you I have lost myself.
I try to return to sleep, but you coax me to stay, to stay awake –
And join you in this party of two. And I do, for this is the only way
That I could be with you, if only in the world of memory and remembering.