Tryst

Meet me by noon
No, not in my study of green shoots
Our high browed legal codes are shut
To sparrows and cats, and mostly
To radical black outfits of carte blanche defiance

Meet me by noon
No, not at yellowed neighbourhood Bistros
They serve sparkling wine, festooned walls
Amorous grapes of Rhone Valley
We are by now, intoxicated unsympathetic verses

Meet me by noon
No, not by Lotus Pond
They screen temperamental movies in your russet mother tongue and mine
Drenched in third world askance
We are liberated Anglophone migrants

Meet me by noon
No, not by the Sea
Kohl eyed dancers gather our stolen glances
Hunger marching in alleys
We are rare trees flowering in grief

Meet me by noon
Meet me by Emperor’s red tomb
Till moon sets and gates are unlocked
Leaning on pillars of dried blood, cleaving philosophy and law
We shall untangle knotted empathy of our shadows, bury foetus of war treaties