A feeling of déjá vu
as I braid your hair
all the way down
and knot it up.
Stands of hair
turning gey I show you
your giggles I hear
telling me it's nothing
but hardwork paid.
Remember I dabbed
a little nude lipstick
and a bit of eyeliner?
Being a natural beauty
you are, before I could
draw even black lines
on your ageing eyes,
you wiped them off.
Oh and remember
when you came to us
in a simple red dress,
yet so gorgeous with
your cheeks turning red.
Your laugh so childlike
when he said
'hands down,
I am one lucky man!'.
A peek I took
into your book,
recipes jotted down
and a few scribbles
here and there.
I didn't mean to
but it's not a secret
anymore.
'Add a cup more
from 'love' and
a stick of 'extra love.'
you wrote in capitals.
Maybe you forgot
to add this when
you made cheesecake
the other day.
I'm pretty sure you'd
never run out of stock.
My grown up self,
I try to scooch-in
to your laps, with your
long-lived hands
caressing my skin.
'renovate her laps
into a bed'
my eyes would request
so I'd give them
hearty sleeps.
Your face turning red
and eyes welling tears.
Hiding them from me
does no good.
Remember?
When I was six,
curled up in a ball
weeping tears,
craving dunkin donuts.
Cupcakes, you baked me
with the frosting
''strawberry kisses'
to top it off
sprinkles you added
like magic it worked
rainbows you created
onto my little brain.
Now that I'm not six anymore,
I want you to know
A little book, I own
with self written recipes.
There's this special
recipe - 'heartfelt hugs',
a taste of it and
it'd bring back the
curve on your face and
the shine in your eyes.
And to be particular
I'd only cook it for you.
You, the whole of
preciousness that you are
is always welcomed.
Use my shoulders as a pillow,
even if you drench them,
Consider my laps a replacement
to absorb all those unspoken pain.
If that doesn't work
let me experiment the recipe,
give it a try, my word you have
t'd only make you happier.
You deserve only the very best.
