We, golden couple, coupled
Awash in smiles and sun-dappled green breezes
Warm, hot, wild and then
Sipping Ceylon white, nutty, mild and sweet
Tasted of spring and the start of all things – right.
Sigiriya Gardens, bird's-eye view;
You whispered, “Take me in your arms, I
Want to fly!”
Grappled me, and did
- we seemed not to Fall but, eyes
Locked blue to brown, the world
Rose to meet us.
Crushed our bones, severed my
Spine and split you from me.
Made mute; I could not cry.
But for all the tubes and pumps
The whir-click escapes of sterile air
The draught of those leaves
Never chills -
Never sours.
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