Before this page fades from memory,
spare a thought for Alois Alzheimer,
called to mind each time
someone becomes forgetful,
disintegration vindicating
his good name.
II
His is the last image assigned
to the ex-President who has slipped
from public view; soiled sheets
give credence to his thesis;
his territory is marked out
by the track of urine
dribbled along the corridor
of the day-care centre.
III
Lie close to me in the dry sheets
while I can still tell who you are.
Let me declare how much I love you
before our bed is sorely tested.
Love me with drooling toxins, with carbon monoxide,
with rope, with arrows through my heart.
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