You asked me if I sang,

do you remember?

And you berated me for the

foolish nonsense on the frail floors?

Those below could hear my noise?

And you prepared the suppers we devoured

and destroyed

and you watched the food dwindle

into scraps.

and you told me wasting paper is a sin

and you read me stories about

rabbits and birds frolicking in the forest.

You kissed my cheek and massaged my arm

while I drifted into sleep.

My cheeks yearn for you supple.

My cheeks are in need for a blessing.

My poor cheeks.

They say you, a tranquil monk

of the temple.

They say you, the provider.

They say your soul

was woven from a rare and

intricate fabric.

You've sewn this same fabric before.

When I was a twinkle in your eye.

I say you were a good friend.

Will you remember me?