I looked under the sink last night
And found to my surprise
A half full bottle of shampoo
Before my very eyes

A forlorn soap dish, tweezers, comb
Nail brush and pumice pack
A hundred ear buds in a stack
To welcome her back home

A bag of brisk white cotton swabs
Some crumpled billet doux
A ladies razor, toothbrush (new)
For her to come back to

Some sorbet coloured kiwi wash
For sensory delight,
A long black hair in a silver brush
A rolled up pair of tights

And then I found an ear ring
Zinc tablets, one full bottle
An empty sex-toy cardboard box
(he likes things at full throttle)

All her traces, all her tack
All her stuff bereft
She must have thought she would come back
That fateful day she left

Remind me when I go away
I must not leave a hint
No grain nor drop, no whiff nor stain,
No hair, nor piece of lint

No proof to show that I was here
So fleeting in his arms
So when he brings you to this bed
There’s no trace of my charms