I came home
And you were weeping
In the corner of that tiny room.
Remember the day?
The barber had cut your hair way too short:
That you wanted it to be a ghazal
But it had turned into a haiku.
I fell for you that day
Like fish falls for bait.
I fell for you
Not because you were weeping.
You were weeping for something
That would definitely grow back.
People usually do the otherwise.