In the Moonlight's Body, Darkness

Dear Suman,

You left me with those excuses — are you well with her now?
Do you call her "baby" like you called me, or have you found some new name?

You used to say we'd have a bright red home together, moonlight would pour through our windows in torrents, and at midnight you'd sing... "Let the earth devour my whole body..." and I'd fall asleep with my head in your lap, listening to your song.

Do you remember, love, all those words?

Tell me, do you remember our little girl, the one you called Sonai so tenderly? Why didn't you let her be born?

She would have driven me crazy calling "Mama! Mama!" and tormented you with "Papa! Papa!" When you came home she'd run to your arms, wrap herself around you, and cover your face and cheeks with kisses.

You often said that once you had your daughter, you'd forget me. I'd get angry and say, "Go on then, go! Forgetting me won't be so easy!" But look how easily you forgot — you didn't even need the little girl to forget me. You left behind my unmade home and our daughter too!

Tell me, Suman, what did I call you? Do you remember? Sonai's father! My Sonai's father has disappeared somewhere!

Even unborn, she left so much love behind. Isn't that so?

Tell me truly — does this new person love you the way I did? Does she have someone like Sonai too? When you enter the house, does she hold you tight against her heart? When you're about to leave, does she cry and cling to your feet? Does she flood your chest with her tears?

Suman! O Suman! Why did you leave me? If you had to leave anyway, why did you plant so much love?

My heart burns more for our darling girl than it does for you. Oh, what love that little one left behind! Why did you leave such fire in this heart of mine!

My inside and outside, my home and family, everything I had — it's all burned to ash, Sonai's father, all of it ash!

I look at myself again and again and think, humans really are terribly stubborn creatures — they don't die so easily! Stay well, you!