My eyes traverse this whole side of the earth
in a paper cup.
I have emptied it a minute ago –
black coffee I almost spilled
when you asked me something
unanswerable
And yet I did answer
the same time I reprimanded myself
for having emptied the cup too soon.
I didn't want to startle you
so I stayed silent about coffee particles
that have settled to the base:
They refuse to dissolve, continents of them
like how it must feel
to stay self, particulate
despite intimations of promises
I cannot dare unmask.
And I bask
At how well I hid from you
the strangest information of their motility
when I tilt the container –
paper cup whose rim I tore up
when I told you something
incomprehensible
Like time.
No comments:
Post a Comment