Weekend For Two Poem by Sumitra Mishra (nee Balakrishnan)

The morning chai is always cold. We never find a weekend for two.
The bed is wide. The silence old. We never find a weekend for two.

The honeymoon had three extra tickets. The anniversaries, a crowd.
You promised me a hand to hold. We never find a weekend for two.

I count the nights you turned away. Your back became a wall.
Your phone, a story left untold. We never find a weekend for two.

The uncle needs his medicine. The mother needs her chair.
The child needs to be consoled. We never find a weekend for two.

I saw your car parked down the street at midnight. Not our street.
You came home smelling of someone bold. We never find a weekend for two.

Now even if the house fell empty, even if the gods looked away -
Our bodies have forgotten how to unfold. We never find a weekend for two.

The promise wasn't Paris. It wasn't a poem or a ring.
It was one Tuesday, growing old. We never find a weekend for two.