Everyday I talk through locks and keys,
You, brittle as metal, lend me pillow edges;
Knowing their penchant for tears, you please
Me with a smile, discoloring with ages.
You stutter pauses, swallow words,
Step on close analogies, hoping to sublime
To happy ether the heavy iodine worlds
Of our past, while I accept your crimes.
When you share a merry-go-round city,
Momently I get dissolved in your Jantar Mantar,
Quite like a maze; But when a hive of bees
Bites me, my eyes gravitate to a fixed star.
Our walls fall on neighbors for whom
They’re built, Our roof shatters our footmarks
That, like our thumb-prints, were unique and stark,
And what escape are some parasitic perfumes.