He cooked bell pepper stew that afternoon
A dish he learnt from his time in Bombay.
His wife crept up behind and hummed the tune
They slowly danced to on their wedding day.

She embraced his body, breathed soothing air
Down his neck and kissed his soft pale skin.
He closed his eyes in delight, and replied
In a whisper, “I wondered where you had been.”

Out the window ahead, in the soft flowerbed
A figure stared up and screamed in shrill –
– That figure his wife, the one he had wed,
Yet the humming behind him still.