The Last I Know Poem by stephen roe

The last I know: the end is the beginning of something else.
Different, not svelte, unimaginable now to feel. The snowfall
Covers me. I’m a snowman without coals for eyes, without
A carrot for a nose, senseless in the white wilderness glow.

The last I know, some train is taking you somewhere. In my
virtual diary brain of all the events we talked through, the pages
Have reached year end; fallen out, being scrubbed out. Or perhaps have
Additions instead, The train, snowploughs through the pages.

The last I know is memory, how your body like an angle poise lamp
Framed my lust, you in pink knickers blushed. I held you on trust,
You were light as a pillow, take hold lightly the saying goes
Let go like a dropp from high building and then it falling in on me too.

The last I know, ground zero, my memory sprinkled with dust
I poke my tongue and grasp at air, your curly hair unloosed from your hat
Your elegant legs rubbed against by a cat, moisture from outside
Forms on your temples, a place I kissed in, a place I worshipped at.

The last I know sickness, nausea when you closed the door, something
Gripped me internally, something I forced upon you was flung to one side.
It crossed my mind suicide, it crossed my mind my Jewish bride
The seam of flesh I ploughed away at on your thin frame.

The last I know, let me explain the kissing game Lost in La Mancha
Our tongues like crazed cabbage-whites dancing over zebras,
You were a human rose opening to me, each petal aflame, each caress
Insane, a flash flood of your love, petal, flower, bud.

The last I know, the Mona Lisa impervious to age, is how I see you
That last smile, the eyes glistening, some whirr of movement of your hair
Something imperceptible to a camera, my memory snapped shut.
Outside the snow is melting to slush, I swerve to avoid something but...