i can remember, quite accurately
the day of your birth
the name of your mother
how you like your food spicy

how you have never had a first kiss
the shape of your mouth when you smile
the feel of your rough hands in mine
and all such simple truths as this

is it so hard for you, in turn
to remember how i cannot deal
with nights as lonely as this
how it is only your voice that i yearn

how i might not make it another minute
without checking to see if you have perhaps
acknowledged my existence, in a separate
universe than which we live in, that of pure silence.