1.0Shekhar Kapurhttps://shekharkapur.com/blogrich600338<blockquote class="wp-embedded-content" data-secret="0BXF7XK0CD"><a href="https://shekharkapur.com/blog/2011/09/when-did-u-leave/">when did u leave ?</a></blockquote><iframe sandbox="allow-scripts" security="restricted" src="https://shekharkapur.com/blog/2011/09/when-did-u-leave/embed/#?secret=0BXF7XK0CD" width="600" height="338" title="“when did u leave ?” — Shekhar Kapur" data-secret="0BXF7XK0CD" frameborder="0" marginwidth="0" marginheight="0" scrolling="no" class="wp-embedded-content"></iframe><script type="text/javascript"> /* <![CDATA[ */ /*! This file is auto-generated */ !function(d,l){"use strict";l.querySelector&&d.addEventListener&&"undefined"!=typeof URL&&(d.wp=d.wp||{},d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage||(d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage=function(e){var t=e.data;if((t||t.secret||t.message||t.value)&&!/[^a-zA-Z0-9]/.test(t.secret)){for(var s,r,n,a=l.querySelectorAll('iframe[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),o=l.querySelectorAll('blockquote[data-secret="'+t.secret+'"]'),c=new RegExp("^https?:$","i"),i=0;i<o.length;i++)o[i].style.display="none";for(i=0;i<a.length;i++)s=a[i],e.source===s.contentWindow&&(s.removeAttribute("style"),"height"===t.message?(1e3<(r=parseInt(t.value,10))?r=1e3:~~r<200&&(r=200),s.height=r):"link"===t.message&&(r=new URL(s.getAttribute("src")),n=new URL(t.value),c.test(n.protocol))&&n.host===r.host&&l.activeElement===s&&(d.top.location.href=t.value))}},d.addEventListener("message",d.wp.receiveEmbedMessage,!1),l.addEventListener("DOMContentLoaded",function(){for(var e,t,s=l.querySelectorAll("iframe.wp-embedded-content"),r=0;r<s.length;r++)(t=(e=s[r]).getAttribute("data-secret"))||(t=Math.random().toString(36).substring(2,12),e.src+="#?secret="+t,e.setAttribute("data-secret",t)),e.contentWindow.postMessage({message:"ready",secret:t},"*")},!1)))}(window,document); //# sourceURL=https://shekharkapur.com/blog/wp-includes/js/wp-embed.min.js /* ]]> */ </script> the wrenching away of your hand the pushing away from my embrace, the scream that rose from deep within the ugliness of words desperate for conviction, the slamming of the door an illusion of permanence your image through the window like a shadow a half self the other half breathing throbbing living loving inside my […]