Anti-Theft

Colloidal slivers of iridescent blindness formulate

the space around me

creating Time the perpetual fugitive.

Palindromes running back and forth
inside my mind

is a sleepless ship teetering this way and that
on a quivering tightrope line;
                     Air, an aria.

I sat like stone and perfect still

prolific to and fro the traffic sound cacophany

visual antitheses of motorbikes, goats, rickshaws, cars,

horns, cows, and wagons

lions, loin cloths, and madness

make

the echo of a silent Tibetan bell

sounding only once

as you approach.

5 uncommon languages fail to translate

         

what your eyes

are speaking

with my eyes.

With these tiny hands

I built a cold dungeon made from the greyest stone

and there in the damp and quiet

did weave a blanket

made of thick and shiny metals, chains

to capture that one moment there within.

And yes, like a blue-eyed laughing beast

did the sea come rolling in

to call my fortress

some mere castle made of sands,

           and wash it all away.

All except for only the Absence

which could not be stolen

is the sun-shaped cutout

here in the center of my chest:

the sun fell from the sky that day

and burned a hole through my soul.
You do exist.

For the servant and the priest, the soulmate and the stranger, from MVG.
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