I was a poem
reinventing the estranged
diaspora of words.

No regrets. Eliciting
the sane suffering,
which did not bode ill.

Breaking the silence
I will reclaim the groped
virginity of stones, which
had witnessed unparalleled assault.

I was your earth,
and I was your space.
You zoomed through me
like a comet, piercing my body
my bones,
my sky.

An angel paints
his body with moonlight,
in blue theme.