Sleeping on pavement―
looking at the stars.

I try to reconstruct―
the manikin, you had
flung away like―
an antique plaque.

We were supposed to
talk as equals in this
moment of truth.

Was that not― the
trading in flesh, when you
ask the stonecutter to make
a shrine of an unknown god?

What was your grand
design O love?
Touch my face, I am
burning like a coal.

In a massive blast I
will break into myriad of seeds.