Does she know your name?

'Does she know your name?'
people ask.
'does she know who you are?'
as if she is facial recognition software.

No.
No.
You don't understand.

When I stroke
Alzheimer's moaning,
when I croon and
feel her mottled paper skin:

her breathing eases; and
I hear her pausing.
I hear her pausing.

In January

It wasn't until January
that insight came.
Lunch melting, the table
umbilical cord to capitulation,
the salad a nightmare
of knives and screams
& bloody memories.

I've hidden inside sandwiches
too long.