In my sanctum,

you walk in― like

my first child, to join

my innerness.

Trying to decipher―

the moral code of angels.

I just wanted an embrace

of a flame to kiss the sparks.

I hear your footsteps,

sometimes near, sometimes far away―

in the valley of burning tears.

This space and, a gouge hold the

secret of melting lips.

Still unborn, a voice in

cul-de-sac, waits for the grievers

to open the darkness―

for a ray of light. It was very

lonely where you had scripted the clouds.