I polished your cufflinks –
the ones in onyx, with BW in script,
knight heads in helmets, and peridot chips.
Did mom ever take a toothbrush to your tie bars,
or breathe on your bracelet and buff it
then hand to you to wear it?
They’re shiny, now.
I did them.
They were so dusty I swear I could smell it.
I’ll bet you’d laugh at what I was doing
since men don’t pierce double-windsors with pins anymore,
wear tiger-eye rings or keep a pocket-knife handy.
They’re drying on a towel in the kitchen.
Your box was so musty that sunlight wouldn’t cure it,
so I had to pitch it.
I guess it’s time for a new one, now
for someone else to rattle someday, look inside,
turn the tap and rinse away the grime.