Your silence is loud
when you hide in mask
You are not aloof
Though in small den like abode
Where a pillow, bedsheet and a cup
Converse axioms of realms outside.

But inside, your battleground thrives,
Swords several, to sever heads
in succession: moments falter,
thoughts scatter, wavered eerie.

Roaches look for rendezvous;
Receive me as guest, spiders dance
on soft ropes to amuse;
Termites speak out tales laden with
grand grandma's memories;
Hands both alternate pillows;
water jug, a lizard's globe
Music of the clock tiptoes in pain
breaking silent notes of unvent tears.

Let me reach for my blanket
Listening to the knock on my door
At the time of supper in plate
Do something at least:
Open my mouth, and gobble
As if the lonely song sung astray.
................................