Protest/A Vow of silence

Here is your card.
Here are the black scribblings indicative of the cloud that you called upon my head.
There is the red for blood, for fury, for Audrey Hepburn.
There is the stain for my tears.
And yours.
But I don’t know if you ever cry.
There, falling out of the card, are sari borders, ribbons, sequins, flowers.
A swastika, ganpati, kalash, rice.
Peacock feathers,
An imprint of my foot,
And the nine children we were to have together.
Happiness, pain and silence.
All unstuck.
There is something I want to tell you.
There was once love in this labour.
But you'll never know.