Rasma Haidri

Not gone, not missed, 

no hole in this day, this house,  

or me— 

            seeing your medicine 

coupled with mine in a brass leaf,  

waiting for us, and morning tea.  


Two full cups need 

four hands to steady 

their brimming: 


one holds Darjeeling  

and ginger,  

the other PG Tips,  


steeped in cloves  

and cardamom seeds. 


I give you a mouthful, 

watch you swallow,  

like Eve’s first draught— 


this is how we flow  

between separate bodies— 

two cups on one table,  

together, and also alone.