One strange movement

stops. You won't conform

an angel's thought dream.

And I will not give in to an epithet

for paradigm shift.

Unblinkingly you stare through

me weighing my

dewy eyes. They had spilled the ink

of heart. Subatomically, a mass

becomes a howl of unheard scream.

I want you for all the

pores of my consciousness. On a

blank paper you will write a betrayal

of cuckoo. The small songbird

cries in joy.

An earthern lamp burns

tirelessly. I cover the flame with

my palm to give you a handprint

of my waist.