Let me see no more matches,
patterns known or one of a kind
Let late sun roll in from under
my forehead, fatigued.
Let sun be a healing stone,
Let designs carry the vertigo to clarity,
light from colors be the hour's chariot.

Eyes-siesta-glittery
rising from rolls of paper, their morning faces,
wide-armed bodies peeping
from angular shelves in seamless poses,

Sailboats fitted in borders, leaves flayed at seams,
Wine carafes in copper stone, each shade
unaware of her elegance vying with light's
shadow, soft throws and hard silk-
Clowns, cherubs, nudes, flowers,
modeling in a world of wanting-
Their world perched on paper,
design's destiny, paper with a mood,
a domain-

Let their detached eyes watch me
invoke Saraswati
in a corner sitting tailor-style