Sonakshi

by A.V. Koshy

Golden one with eyes to match
it glistens in your skin
like flecks of beaten copper
and shining brass
You kill with your sparkling hues
sublime they call it
yet not I
for I know how they came about
from blows I inflicted on your mind
in self-defense
to get rid of you
Sonakshi, no dream of profile
or painting will ever do justice to
the fact of what we went daily through
or words paint what can never be described
All that all these forms can do
is but lie
The truth is that
you with your golden eyes
captured the one whom no one could
and then you or he died
in each other's clasp
or will, as you should
Deathly grasp
full of pain and yet
when one becomes acclimatised
to such pain there is pleasure in it
and sweetness like the light in gold in the right lights
and in your eyes
that have now gone soft
when once only the devil played in them.