I was a budding star, a
lovely flower,
I was sought after wherever
and whenever I went.
I was loved and desired more
than by my parents.
It was a credit, I felt,
men’s eyes on me.
I pleasurably got wounded.
They groped me
Under the pallu, beneath the
blouse and the bra
And underneath the skirt.
Each flesh got wounded
Erotically. I fed on the
grains men scattered
On sand. Now no man is
around. No flesh abounds.
I starve. They vented me out
but yet haunt me.
22.11.2002
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