Accusations, coldness, blame, over-working, paranoia, cancer — all seemingly going on in a doctor's house, not a great combination, especially unfortunate when the doctor himself is ill. "Someone" also seems to suffer from insomnia, or to have it in for people who can sleep well. What a world!
The gas-fire hisses; you have been asleep.
Outside, house-roofs, white with frost, are coldly clean.
Dusk brings a new white, colder still.
When I spoke, you looked serene.
Your affair had been with sleep,
Mine with haemorrhage — the tumourous till
Of illness which opens up to everyone.
What richness in a purple shade that takes
Its victim months to enter into, and to be undone?
I cannot say...too much. Even a swan hissed
When I took my habitual, lunch-time walk.
But you never missed me, you never miss my kiss,
Always mix everything because you fall asleep.