My hands
are wands,
not canes,
An armless robin
perches in them
It's dusk.
Spring.
Mangoes are bride.
A riddle.
A panic station.

Desires are chained.
It swings in the cradle.
Raindrops.
Breeze.

A sympathetic act
Is sweeter than honey,
Brighter than a sparkling star,
Lovable than a lovely present.