The Detached Inner Chamber

: Pragya, you're not writing anymore?

: No.

: Why? What's happened to you?

: Who would I write for?

: For yourself...

: The feelings in my inner chambers—
rust has set in;
I can no longer find myself in them.

Besides, the one I used to write about—
no longer comes to dwell in my pulse.

I've heard—my restlessness causes her discomfort!
I've let her be well in her own way.