Decades before
the diagnosis
when we all
felt eternal,
protected
by passion,
a lover coiled
around me in bed
running a hand
over a hip,
Who do you think
is going to die first?
What? I said,
retracting
to scrutinize
his face.
It won't matter
because we
won't be together.
- Dion Farquhar (1947-present)
