Dear ( ) And as the sunlight strokes my face,
I remember those hours and days.
My eyes betray me as they glaze,
But he is done now, as he says.

And since he’s done, I am so too
Will no more waste my time on him,
Will not care, as some friends might do,
And watch them tear him, limb from limb.

On purpose I’ve killed memories,
On purpose I hold him forgotten,
Alone with you he can decease
Until his last bone’s rotten.