I occupied the chair,

she could sit on my leg.

I would laugh like a maniac,

her giggles often suppressed.

She wouldn’t be stern, or ask for what she wants,

I was needy enough to beg.

She hid behind the silence,

I hid behind the guffaws.

Honest to god,

she was some years younger to me,

but wiser in her thoughts.

I had sex like a whore,

Her dignity, like a chanderi she wore.

Maybe, she’ll be a doctor.

Maybe, she’ll go to the States.

Making her way into my dreams,

she was now the story of success.

All I shared with her,

was the chromosome X.

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