Leftovers Poem by Clarisse Sobiono

Oh, leftovers
Why do we always have leftovers
It never happens that a thing concludes
And gone without leaving leftovers

Or is it just me
Probably 'cause I'm alone
You were here
Then you're gone
And you got leftovers

I can still smell you
Heavy is the weight of your stare
Leftovers in the fridge
Getting stale

You were playing something
Left you for a while
I came back
Leftovers of your rhythm all around

You held my hand
As we listen to the flowing water
I felt you trembling
Leftovers of this feeling

I am certain that we are not meant to be
In time, these leftovers will deplete
Oh leftovers, they now hurt
Saturated, infecting leftovers