We were brought up
By the rule book
That spelt love for us daughters
As immoral, infidel,
Masked, contagious
Dreams were cached
Within constrained confines
The self remained dwarfed-
Bonsai like
Unable to reach beyond its grasp
But a moment of wild defiance
Unleashed a tempestuous will
To self-expression
I followed love’s trail
Scanning the horizon of darkness
To arrive at the moonlit patch
Of a perplexed night-
A night that witnessed
Love’s intimate dance
In the sensual celebration of
Intimacy between
Soul, mind and body

With the first footfall of dawn
I tore all pages
Of the book of norms
Made paper-flowers out of them
This morning they have metamorphosed
Into golden-orange chrysanthemums.