The face as clear a memory as a glossy picture,
The words sting my heart as snakes would,
I remember, I remember, I remember.
Each day I seek to understand why,
The past trailing behind me,
Trying to smother me with a pillow of darkness,
There were two of us, but it only matters to me.
Dedicating my thoughts to this being,
Oblivious, simple, ignorant,
Waiting to find his replacement;
Another cold-blooded reptile in this swamp.
Sipping sharp liquor from cheap glasses at night,
Clutching the pages setting out the tale,
I seek to forget.
Copyright © Martina Adovica