I do not care if you arrive in just your skeleton,
but wait, we burnt that, come as a wisp of smoke, then
Would love to take a stroll with you. Miss you.
Would love to make you kosha mangsho and bhaat
the way you loved it on Sunday afternoons.
Love to feed you. Chatter over hot spicy egg-chicken rolls
on Saturdays. Little kebabs tossed with fried onions
and encased in parathas and egg. Miss you.
Would love to walk around the garden with you
Bring the ghost dog and the duck, they can follow us
As you point out the stars like you used to
and tell me about the after. Is it happy?
Wish you. Wish you could return for a little while.
You don’t need flesh or skin or bones, I will know
you. And you too will know me even though I’m
bigger now. Older. I’ll bare open my life to you, warts and all.
I’d like to slip into the water while you add fertilizer for the fish
and if you wish to swim, I’ll hold the stinky float. Miss you
standing looking out over the pond, with the hedge-clippers
in your hand. Miss you in your favourite striped shirt.
The one we cut away from you, I can bring a new one,
if only you would come by. I know I told you
it was okay to go. I even prayed that you would go
like you told me to. Why did I listen to you?
Why did you believe me when I said it was okay
to leave? Come back so we can talk about the real truths.
Miss you wish you would walk through the door,
Stare back at me from the abyss, wander in
on the southern breeze, waltz into my dreams.
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