And you are so changed,
with your velvet dress all disappeared
and vanished.
I watched you disintegrate,
eyes all asleep and surrounded by Korea.
These stark Korean trees filling corners of photographs of you.
Where are you now, you were always autumn.
And now I am worn like medieval armour, worn like a shroud.
A row of desks. A group of desks, they move around as the weeks change.
A little ballet of desks, as I think of your new friends.
I think of your bookcase, I think of Spartan duplicity and Thucydides.
The logic of terror.
And my thoughts of you are always fraught.
I am wrapped up in that velvet dress which I carried from home for you.
And you on the couch in the summer, you in your silence.
I felt so ashamed when you left.