Exile

Scrabble is not a lonely goddess
But a slave of our first meeting.
We argued time and again but
Could not spell freedom without
Debating about the NPAs, I felt
Guilty when you embrace solitude
With the limbs of the sea as the
Mountains sleep with a sweet
Sirocco whispering inaudible
Lexicons in your ears, if only I
Could bail you from the heart
Of the province where you leaf
The pages of the calendar as if
It’s a textbook banned by history.