Open your cabinets

My taste has changed

The cabinets door has to be opened
Inviting people to stare and touch my belongings

My grandmothers porcelain is in the basement
I have changed to the past and future

Things need to be touched and then cleaned

No need for boredom of cups
The neighboring ladies are not all invited in

I appreciate myself for not letting men use me
Do not judge women who do

They are you with more stories and joy
Sorrow keeps you grounded and calm

Ofcourse I’m missing out
Preserving the cups I will never use

I am sorry that I could not be there for you
Closed off from love and rehabilitation

A silent retraite

Adore you,

Shivafeli

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