the first is a spot
through which a night shines
the first is a mouth like a spot
or a spot like a mouth,
this confusion happens to me through the atrocities of words,
the glass beads
of unspoken talks
The second is blurred.
a garage of broken lives.
mark of a garden path,
pale figures of God
The third is the grass
you sit here in the colony of ants,
through retractive light,
hopping and walking across centuries,
you become like a shape- shifter,
a brilliant one.
the fourth is an Elegy
through the thick of fabric
of the night, you become so bright
suddenly, not any sad song now.
And you slip from the corners of your mouth,
slipping like an elegy
slipping like a song
Cities are of no one
and I too have no place.
Partially inspired by-`Agnes Nemes Nagy