Kanvas!

When I moved into your bed
I was not alone— there were
two of us
A married woman and a virgin
To sleep with you
I had to offer the virgin in
me
I did so
This slaughter is permissible
in law
Not the indignity of it
And I bore the onslaught of
the insult
The next morning
I looked at my blood stained
hands
I washed my hands
But the moment I stood
before the mirror
I found her standing there
The one wwhom I thought I
had slaughtered last night
Oh God!
Was it too dark in your bed
I had to kill one and I killed
the other ?

There was a grief I smoked
in silence, like a cigarette.

only a few poems fell

out of the ash I flicked from it

But keep aside your body and keep it on the chair there,

like you have put off your shirt and the shoes

This is nothing serious

This is just matter of a different custom of different country/people.