The Weaver Poem by Rehan Hyder

And as I uncap
The cauldron of mind
At this very moment
As this very spin on Creators
Hoodlum that spin, pin time
There is a fair maiden astride
A custom made body
Giving all she has and,
she doesn't have
We see in fact two installation artists
Doing Picasso, De Vincis and us (perhaps)
The permanence of ecstasy
anchorage of feeling; lens deep
(Cut! Mandy your leg blocked the whole damn thing; retake)
Two strangers once again
snuggled in hand me down of intimacy

We! Though not even remotely related
to the finesse of those master forms
Enter each other with earnestness,
with longing gratitude humility and selflessness
Our bodies vacillating between
erotica and sheer humour of
our dwindling strengths waning looks
We with our flimsy selves
but anchorages that cuts past
this shallow earth into
infinity of Hoodlum, He Spins
and we become endless