I had met you on a day when red flowers Stormed a hesitant sky. I couldn't understand then The red saree, the red bindi and your red bangles, Abrasions scarring a river that I had never known The red tram that took us to Park Street, broke through Your smile and small talk. Drinking tea of chipped cups, Your red lips, you knew I yearned to write of subterfuges and shadows In a rundown caf' closing the sun. Whispers of a red flower on another sudden day.
