Father’s lover sits
on the paisley sofa
where my mother
rested before she went
to bed and died.
It’s been fourteen years
since the water ran,
since my mother refused
to get out of the shower
because hot water
felt so good.
In the intervening years
my father’s lover has lost
her mind. She says
the most beautiful things.
Today she said,
I know I love you,
but I’ve forgotten your name.