I’m swapping the slices of a huge sugar pie.
Uniformly menaced slices.
Proportionately cremated on each side.
I swap them today, then the day before tomorrow.
Each time trying to replace it with a larger slice.
An impossible itinerary to a much bigger outcome.
I look outside.
A white-caped lamp post heading north-west,
Accompanied by a plethora of flies.
Like, I chased you out of your chaos
My city! Except there was no light in me.
I look outside. Again.
I see harlequin lights blinking outside a window.
Reds, like the avalanche of warm lust.
Blues, like vengeance.
The happy reminder of an obsolete day.
I want to swap these two,
The lightening bees and the colouring window.
So, I traded them off with the flicker of my eyes
Deliberate abstraction came to be absolute
Unlike the pie; and I’m rich from the inside.