I spray, smell, snort and bathe in them to have one last whiff of you,
Your shower gel, face wash, shampoo and shaving foam,
Are almost over, thanks to your perennial roam,
But I’m clinging on to them for dear life,
Like a good wife,
Waiting for you to come back,
For I know, you will need to pack them away, in your navy blue travel pack,
I smell the collar of your dark blue formal jacket,
Every night, just before hitting the sack, I do it quietly and without much racket,
These private moments between husband and wife,
Give me a few more breaths to my life,
This is my way of keeping you alive,
Until God decides to drive,
Me up to you,
You must be heaven, where else can such a good man like you go, yet to take your Dune shoe,
The one you wore on the day you died,
My birthday gift to you, a month before you died,
Are you still with me?
Was it you, who walked along with me,
On the beach yesterday morning,
And was it you, who turned on Riaan’s cement mixer truck without warning?
I want to believe it’s you,
My naughty poopie and Riaan’s “bimbi boo boo”
We love you,
More than the most gooiest, darkest, tastiest, chocolate fondue.
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