Spring Cleaning

housewives know how 
everything must fit in the closet.
that’s why they're almost always locked
and the keys are safe in handbags.
This way no one would accidentally 
discover hastily dumped everything
that wasn't cleared in time for guests.


i’m more organised.

the back of the top shelf is for names i am called
like clothes that don’t fit.
I take them out once in a while
for airing. keeps the venom alive.
everyday arguments are kept within reach.
insults, mean and vicious words
need to be accessible.
you never know when you might need them


the other shelves have clothes
black or white mostly
so you never again put up with the uncertain greys
shirts and pants so you can be your own boss
dupattas that smother responses
salwaars and churidaars
neatly stacked, occupying space
that might otherwise
be occupied with doubts,
low self esteem,
like chores of my day.

knick knacks from happier times have been
strangled in plastic bags
because they add up all the lies lived.
i know i should throw them out
along with lacy underwear that prayed for passion
but i don’t find the time.


i am dealing with the daily
ironing out of creases in feelings
darning the damage done 
by words spoken in anger...


oh how much i ramble
let me make you some coffee
and rustle up little vanilla cakes
with blue, pink and yellow sprinkles
the cleaning up of this closet can wait.
skeletons don’t kiss and tell.