When I leave
I’ll leave with you:
One box of multi-vitamins
And one of calcium Sandoz.
Your gift to me
A little TLC
And my over 30 body.
One brown-and-white
St. Bernard hand puppet
Who stroked your cheek
And tickled your nose
On lazy Saturday afternoons.
My socks, comfort sweats
And comforter.
Reminders of my intolerance to cold my need to snuggle
And my lingering essence.
So many selfies
And posts
And snaps
And moments
And stories
And memories
Our life online.
Our lives on the line.
All my scrapbooks
KG cardboard, crafts box.
Crumpled and faded, real
Pictures of me in pigtails
Skinny legs, frowny face.
And you in uniform
Skinny legs, frowny face.
And us, together, grown up
Chubby cheeks, happy-shiny faces.
My favourite gum:
boom-boom-Boomers.
My favourite Disney movie songs
In a worn out cassette tape
Last listened to in 2004.
Sticky cheesy love notes
And practical life lessons
And philosophical questions
In every nook and cranny.
Not a day will go by
Without you thinking of me
“Miss you, booboo”
“Always carry cash when heading out.”
“What if it all really just boils down to the number 42?”
One half-used Odomos spray bottle-
And the way you used to envy
The mosquitoes swarming around my arms.
My red MAC lipstick-
And it’s 24hr imprint on you.
Our bottled money plant-
Our Labour of Love (Please don’t over water).
My books-
An odd collection of
Fantasy, self-help and romance.
And how I read them out loud
In a silly British accent
With your head on my lap
My hand in your hair.
A plastic folder
With old news cuttings
And faded recipes written hurriedly in pencil
Not a single use for them now.
My Gratitude box
Butt of your many jokes
“New-age-y nonsense!”
Which you secretly loved.
My night-jasmine perfume
Which you openly loved.
My collection of
Zombie horror flicks.
And how I used to make you watch
And then stay up with me till 3AM.
The Big Bang Theory mugs
And my way-too-milky tea.
My tiny blue Swarovski drops
The only thing of value in the market.
My priceless heart.
©Shweta Bhat
Shweta Bhat Poetry 