She was an artist in the making
The abstract eye could travel to galactic spaces
Which no astronomer even with a telescope could witness
She was the darling of the endeared
A woman as stubborn as the dream that defined her
– To be an artist in the isle of Serendib.

And the untimely, unhinged her from that dream
It only took a wine-bottle and a man
To tear the tapestry down. She was now staring
Not at water colors, but at water
That could break apart her dream

Yet the darkest secret the breast hid
Was forgotten to the first instant of lip on tip
As flood gates opened with a simple yank
To quench an infant’s thirst
And tender her breast.

And in that life-defining moment, it was as if,
The infant’s lips had opened
The latch of a booby trap…..

And out-exploding was love.