brush in the sink
as you sing our favourite songs;
In that cracked yet enchanting voice
rich in memories
of every argument we've ever had;
Those glasses on your shapely nose
thickened over years
though it is time for a higher number;
The sun glinting off the strands
smooth hairs: white, grey and black;
And that perpetually swelling medicine box
shared between us
from which I swallow what I see first...
You asked for it, didn't you
what I liked in you
And I had to be honest about it?
Of course you have silky black hair,
and dazzling eyes,
bewitching smile, sweet voice et cetera.
Not that I don't like you this way,
Of course I do.
But when it comes to that...
Glad you get the point!
Published in Writing Love an Anthology of Indian - English Poetry, ed. Ashmi Ahluwalia; Rupa Publications 2010. ISBN 978-81-29116-66-6.