Do You Remember? Poem by M. W. Taylor

Do you remember the night
we sat on my couch at 2am?
You read me poems about the war
that you studied back when you were at school.
I read you poems by Neruda
and Poe's Annabel Lee.
They reminded me of you.
You said you had never been happier.
Do you remember what we did the next day?
I think we went to Stirling, where we met.
Maybe my memories are all mashed up.
Do you remember the nights
where we didn't fight?
Do you remember when we went to Glamis Castle?
You said it felt like a real home,
so we decided it would be ours.
Do you remember the night, New Years Eve,
where we danced, in the park, under the starlight?
Your eyes shone and you said
'This is our song.'
and I laughed.
Then I nodded.
Do you remember you used to leave me notes
telling me how you loved me
because I had been sad the day before?
Do you remember when you drove in the middle of the night
because I was lonely and my parents were gone
and I didn't have any bread?
Do you remember the first night we ever spent together?
(It was the 10th of December by the way)
We lay sober in the drunken company of two people we had just met
beneath blankets and on a rug,
and you looked at me like everything had fallen into place.
Like the world and the stars and the entire universe around us had finally clicked.

I can't remember the sound of your voice,
even though you had accidentally left messages on my voicemail
where you sang in the car as you drove to my house.
I can't remember the smell of your perfume,
even though I spent forty minutes in the store buying it for you
and I had to explain to the woman behind the counter
that this was all the money I had and it had to be special for you.
I can't remember the touch of your hand
even though I spent hours at night tracing it with my fingers,
desperate to remember every inch of you.
I can't remember the warmth of your breath
or the sound of your laughter.
I can't remember the taste of your lips
or the curve of your hips.
I can't remember the smell of your hair
even though every time you slept beside me
it drifted me off to sleep.

I remember how you stopped smiling
when I said 'I love you'
I remember you told me to stop saying it
because it didn't mean anything any more.
As if love was some sort of currency used to curry favour.
As if love was some sort of bargaining system
as if 'I love you' was barely a reminder that I cared when you didn't.
I remember how the light in your eyes
gradually lessened when you looked at me,
as if I had done something unthinkable.
I remember having to watch everything I said
because the slightest misstep would lead to another argument
even though all I had asked was 'Will I see you today? '
I remember how you stopped squeezing my hand
when I held yours.
I remember how you spent hours
just crying, crying, crying,
over small things that happened at work.
I remember the nights
where all we did was fight.
I remember when you stopped leaving your toothbrush at mine.
I remember it all,
like I remember when you stopped loving me.