She wore faux fox furs
she said it matched her purple hair.
and ate nothing but Ramen noodles with miracle whip.
She was an angel.
When I was sick in bed with cancer
she leaned over me placing cool rags on my burning skull.
Many times I would wake from a fever dream
to find her sitting on the floor
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem