I remember, a monument near Lenin’s library, on which pedestal we slept in the day-time among passerby.
I remember, how you walk a dog, look like the owner.
I remember, our night together, as guests, on a single arm-chair.
I remember, you got drunk and thought that you are a deer in womanish trousers of pyjamas.
I remember, pink lilies in dark blue plastic bottle, smothering us by smell for whole week.
I remember, our video rental and hundreds of the revised tapes, one of which was porno.
I remember, all books read by us and the arguments, your logic, against my irrational thought.
I remember, cakes purchased from the last money, I was crying and telling you -"I will die without sweets, please feel sorry for me".
I remember, photo-exhibitions and calligraphy in a museum on weekends and on our birthdays.
I remember, how you carry me in a botanical garden, then we climb above fence without tickets.
I remember, how your mother told, that you wanted to send me the seeds of chamomiles, but was afraid they won’t germinate, and simply cut out flowers from the first postcard you found.
I remember, ringing in my bag, glasses from opera buffet, stolen in the intermission, and you memorized bass of singer, singing – “Three maps!”
I remember, a roof, we were kissed passing to each other a lollipop. I remember, green cider and dark blue gin tonic.
I remember, a waltz and tango, danced at the deserted station on the way to Petersburg and our feet were frozen.
I remember, the sweet words which i named you.
I remember, our password -“I love you”, when squeezing fingers in a rhythm -1-2-2.
I remember, your gifted “Manual studying of Chinese” and you in toilet reading Confucius.
I remember, as you are ill a quinsy, it seems to me that continuously and as a child, you assert -“These pills will stick in my throat”
I remember, I am more well-aimed when shooting snowballs and glad that I am better than you, at least in this, my love.
I remember, all kilos of rice prepared, by the Indian method, for you.
I remember, a subway, you meet me and why you are in womanish leather jacket, with a pink umbrella in hands, it was ashaming me to laugh, you told how badly with me and even twice worse without.
I remember, you accompanied me at night to toilet, after a next terrifying movie, I complained that a frightful heroine would carry away me certainly.
I remember, included a round-the-clock sporting channel, in a week with the incessant whistles of fans a head ached already.
I remember, your extended eyes on a lift on Sparrow Hills, ten meters high and because of fear you seized firmly in me.
I remember, your comfortable beige sweater, having spots from ketchup.
I remember, your white smooth girls skin, oh, if I only could have like this.
I remember, a silver bell for money, from the sold gold ear-rings, on bead whicky which I braided for you.
I remember, your child’s pictures from Ice Palace.
I remember, you pour out champagne in McDonalds in to glasses from Coca- Cola, under the table.
I remember, our dispute, that I will drink the bottle of Vodka and later past out darkness.
I remember, sex between the carriages of shuttle train and in a subway, i covered with a bag, as you pet me under my skirt.
I remember, me, drawing Japanese landscapes from books, decorating a room for you.
I remember, playing cards and backgammon betting on desires, many desires for you and for me.
I remember, how you overslept in Tula for seventeen hours, so you met with my family this way.
I remember, unstitching a belly of a toy hippopotamus, being angered, how you could leave somewhere without me?
I remember, I’m calling you to say “You have the most beautiful eyes in the world”.
I remember, you can’t fall asleep without me and while sleeping you hold my hand.
I remember, you spoke with, our yet unborn child.
I remember, all day long, waiting in impatience, for when you’ll come back from work, because for me, nobody nearer than you.
I remember, i walked up to the window of maternity hospital, simply feeling you alongside, yes, my daughter looks like you.
I remember, our last happy day, fourteenth of February , and you?
By author: Evgeniya Sochneva.
Translated by Yulia Kopr from russian into english