Can I be your O2?

I sharpened my pencil to write this poem

The lead broke and went rolling across the paper

That beautiful mole of yours - Can that go rolling too?

Your mole reminds me of the universe

Galaxies, stars and planets.. Rotations and revolutions..

Does the sun have to rise every morning?

I maintain peace with its routine for a simple reason

My favorite part of every day - Waking up before you, to see you try to wake up

Chuck your bindi. Chuck your mascara. 

That unruly hair, those un-opening eyes and that uncontrollable yawn

You are a princess all the way from the bed to the washroom.

Yesterday, during my walk, I came across a flock of birds

All pigeons but for a solitary dove

Like that single strand of grey hair on your head

Remember that day I discovered it and you broke down?

I try imagining you old and wrinkled

The affection does not diminish a bit

Reminds me of the stagnating water in our kitchen sink

To hell with all the utensils while you wash them

Why do you hold them so dearly?

To hell with the coffee mug - That beautiful ellipse is mine

Can I gift you a packet of straws instead? But wait!

To hell with the straws too. And also your toothbrush.

I have sharpened my pencil again

The pencil shavings show me an exciting version of your eyelids

Can I reroute the path to my office between your eyelashes and eyebrows? 

I have a confession - I threw away your previous pair of eyeglasses

You did not lose them at the restaurant

But the eyeglasses deserved it, spending more time with you than I do

Kindly hide away your new contact lenses

And your comb and your wristwatch and your slippers, especially your favorite pillow

I have already contacted a buyer to dispose all our furniture

I now need to worry about only one problem

How do I turn a part of myself into oxygen?