Intersecting Paths

Counting steps But how many in that 10X12 space and How many times? The steps measured In certain uncertainity Yes...one No...two Went the count A pen looted in broad day light Hearts waiting for a release! But permenantly sealed... Yes...no Yes...no! Left their impressions On either cheek Sealed hearts fluttered their wings, in vain Fell flat in a heap, tired! The tired hearts in the heap morphed: Words, scents, sentences... Pink and perfumed on palms Stubborn pinkperfume! The airconditioner hanging on the window Whirred like a routine fan. Failed to lick the heat No remote! Did Cavafy say anything On intersecting paths? I've to check... After an aesthetic dislocation Words found their way In the mild chillness of the east balcony On an early winter morning Before the break of dawn Words, do they need light? They lead light Or turn light into darkness The pen too didn't want light It went on lighing its way And rested on the 'Three pillars of Zen! '