A lamplit page
that smells your body.
I still remember the
cajoling maneuver to give
me a spin.

Oysters. They were crawling
to eject the pearls. And
spiders weaving a net
to trap my thoughts. A
fly lands in the labyrinth.

War of attrition. A tremor
shakes the pillars. Moments
of disintegration. The fragments
throw the footprints in
your hands.

You cannot write your
name on your book.