What they didn't know was that
(The morning sky was prisoner,
clouds tissue paper over braille)
after ashes settled in chinoiserie fireboxes and
(torpid gully was a dwelling for beguiling sirens
to lure trees)
long anticipated punch lines had been forgotten
(Chiang Saen was comfortable in its skin)
feng shui had fallen down the staircase
(strawberries wore coats of pimpled scarlet)
flat lined at a glorious angle to a kuwaiti chest.
(rivers gorged on rocks and silt)
She wanted to preach to him about anicca
(afternoon would lull itself to sleep)
how the universe and its contents are in flux,
(without man no land, without land no man)
and that in dying there is no real shame:
(a blushing butterfly thought)
perhaps integrity earned through qualification.
(the envy of all chrysalises)
To offer her fresh fruit from the arbour
(jasmine bushes acquaint themselves with new tenants)
he would pass under the veranda rolling a lemon in his hands
(rejuvenated by sweet-sour juices)
across from the pond studded with lotus heads
(she floats out of her fleshy suit)
jewels on a shimmering crown
(above the garden) unfurling on its surface.
 A large wooden chest containing personal possessions.