This mug was the love she had
She couldn't whisper in meaningful syllables.
I saw her picking it up
From her kitchen utensils,
Singled out that pear-shaped one, cloth polished it
Handed it over to me.
Love was the stars in her eyes.
"Have this mug my brother."
Mine memories are back-waved in ripples
Seeing her fishing it up from her kitchen marshals,
It happened a decade ago, but it is still happening now.
