The Wedding Ring

She had not eaten in days,
Not a crumb for her belly.
She had not seen anyone in weeks,
Not a morsel for her soul.
She had not feasted in months, 
Because there were mouths that knew no food. 
The sounds of towering blocks of bricks breaking apart and crumbling to the ground
Echoed through her vicinity and shuddered her very home. 
The cries of the children running about the streets searching for their Mama and Papa,
Rummaging through the disintegrated, disfigured iron bars and rubble strewn across. 
She had not shut her eyes to rest her mind for the longest time,
For the pandemonium kept her awake. 
Diligent enough to tend to her needs, courageous enough to fend for herself
Remembering the words that he had uttered. 
“I’d come for you”.

She used to walk around the neighbourhood,
Polka dotted dresses in red.
Her lips matched the reddish hue of the scarf around her neck.
Her earrings were rare rubies that refracted in the day and reflected in the night.
Her hair was blonde, wavy, lush and generous like a horse’s mane. 
He was always beside her, holding her by her waist and bringing her close to his side. 
She locked not her arms around him but her lips as well. 
Her clothes didn’t fit, her lips were chapped. 
The ring had moved to her thumb and her nails were covered in soot.
He had packed his bags and folded her photograph,
His camouflage suit was ironed and ready.
He slid the picture into the pocket above his heart.
His wagon was waiting and ready.
She remembers nothing but his kiss, 
The way it felt on her lips.
Not his face nor his nose, 
Not his ears or their lobes.
She holds onto her heart and rests her worries
on the barbed wires that surround her walls.
She lives on,
Though bombs may fall and mines blow up,
Though B-52s fly across the skies echoing the roars of its engine,
Though the radios transmit despair of falling borders and fallen soldiers.
She hadn’t heard his name on the Radio, Not yet. 

She lives on, waiting for him to come back.
Waiting for him to return to her arms,
Waiting for him to lift her up and kiss her,
Waiting for him to say those words again
“I told you, I’d come for you.”

- Dr. Izhar Vinson Iyapillai

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