Your lips wrapped on kisses or was that sunlight?
Lonesome frangipani lay spent on the ground,
Until a green saree sprinkled glass-bangle sound
And words entangled so with words,
rhyme, rhythm, meaning, and purpose
Tumbled into new depths, novel deaths
Under an imagined tree at night
Your skin and mine, your touch and mine
Breathed a new life
All that I ever was,
burned in sheer joy
And from those sacred ashes,
New lives arose with a cry
Today's smile was
printed on my breasts
Here and now;
and a new poem is born
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