The day you fetched me
a red velvet box and took my hand.
Held up its contents to my face
before I began to understand.
You slipped the catch off
of a necklace of blues
and in your best fawning voice said,
"Darling, they're sapphires, see these hues?
Dont they perfectly match
the glitter of your glorious eyes?"
I turned away, lowering my gaze
before you could even surmise
the depth of my despair as I fled the room.
You claim you never understood
the suddenness of my gloom
or why I refused to see you
inspite of all your pleading.
Shall I tell you now or,
or do you see where this is leading?
Do you remember now, my love?
Do you remember my dress?
Now that was the colour of my irides.