I remember the hill and the sun in her hair,
I remember the moss on a tombstone seat,
With the grass as tall as a mad march hare.
I remember she kicked the shoes off her feet.
I remember her calling me ‘daft as a brush’,
And the taste of the orange she helped to peel.
I remember she mocked my feeble moustache
And my snakeskin boots with their Cuban heel.
I remember the lids of her eyes as we kissed,
I remember the shock of a gentle slap
As she hissed ‘Not here!’ and circled my wrist
When I fumbled the catch of her brassiere strap.
I remember it rained as we raced for a fuck
To my room. I remember we tore off our clothes —
Except for my boot where the zip had stuck!
And her poached-egg breasts, I remember those.
I remember we tumbled both half insane
On the bed, and the arch of her back as I came.
I remember we did it again and again,
And we screamed...
...but I cannot remember her name.