Kit Kelen #1229 - I brought a box of my mother's tears with me

1229

I brought a box of my mother’s tears with me

I haven’t checked the use-by

little vials with which she was thrifty

so many yet remain

sometimes here the air is dry

even though it’s raining lightly right now

I travel with them

think of them as a little selection

although they’re all the same

you never know when you’ll be crossing a desert

though these wouldn’t save you from thirst

or anything really, except dry eyes

I’m happy to have things of mum’s

things she chose herself and loved -

cups and pictures, hats and tea

mainly books, and practical things -

cutlery, tears

I’m reluctant to have back though

stuff I gave - presents

better in general to pass them on

things she borrowed

are another category

it’s a strange thing

in that moment when I woke

because I knew

and had her face before me

I went up to the loft without thinking

and sniffed through a bag of her stuff

and put on a warm top I’d got her in China

not really meaning to get it for her

elasticy, synthetic, warm

mum adopted it

I’m wearing it now

nippy in Munich

have had to wash it a few times since

still it’s a kind of a skin to be in

when mum had gone

somehow the moment knew me

my mother’s tears were rare in life

there was something about glaucoma

then the light came on

and I spilled into the next day

I keep those tears of my mother’s

I think they were prescribed

though I know that for such things

no prescription is required

each in it’s likely-to-outlast-us-all plastic case

a fish could swallow

like soy sauce

I haven’t checked the use-by

but my hunch is these things last forever

whatever the company says

they only want to sell more

so I’ll hang onto these tears of mum’s

they’re for emergencies really

just in case

you never know

they don’t weigh anything

(like everything else I travel with)

I am reluctant to use them though

just blink a few times

I’ll be right