Some time back, I had a conversation with a poet who said that a poem is an appendage of her body, whereas I had always thought that a poem, once born from the poet, would have a life of its own, unlike an appendage which draws nutrition from where it emanates. For me, a poem upon birth becomes detached from the poet and the poet can at best have a parental attachment to it. But for my fellow poet the poems were parts of her body, every new one modifying her, reshaping her, and giving her a new dimension.