Remember when the flat was a space ship? You
were not impressed with the acrylics on the wall
beneath a clock we didn’t know
was counting down.
Remember the slippery slide? You
woke to us riding the corridor
filled up with soap, to us five in a shower.
Remember your birthday? Your face
lit up as we stood in your t-shirts,
presented your cakes in De Doos,
told you we loved you (and how
you blushed in those moments,
how we knew you were touched)
painting a flag,
soaping the floor,
baking your cakes
re-painting the wall,
cleaning that floor,
cutting those cakes
as we wished you many more
because we couldn’t have known.