Draft

Ira came to me yesterday...
Slightly breathless, she said after living, loving
Staying with him for 15 years, she feels like running away.
A wonderful life it has been, she said. A wonderful kid, a close-knit family
A car, own house, a cushy job, maids, doting in-laws
So she feels like running away
'Go Ira', I said, 'run'
She ran, tumbled, smiled back at me
The chains were pink, now they are slightly red...
Burnt Sienna, the colour of her sari when she spoke
The day has passed... A blackish tinge to the unblemished yellow...
The spot has darkened...
Why Ira, I asked her...
Why, after so many years...?
That's the point, she replied... The black is what attracts me