Ovalish, out-of-shape, clownish shadows halted
over trees and spaces unfamiliar to intrusion
on ground a dry crust resisted the clanking
grandeur of city, behind anagogic walls
crumpled leaves waited orgasmic crush, but
the intruder was meticulous, this time of the year
we used to edit our thoughts, every time clouds came
stories of mangoes oozed, tongues endured
before a flood of taste brought bold gestures of love
in Lahore’s crouching cartography some open lands
housed shadows generously, roofs with crooked wires
offered surreal evictions, we promised to counter
arrogance in this transition, so feudal in intent
so irreverent that whipped us to take out words
from rusty suitcases.