Blank paper’s itch

When I try to study
A blank paper, on a crossroad
Time eats me up as quicksand
I am volatile without a coffin

Fluttering eye and siesta in my veins
A night of pain
And a heart so distant
Too many pictures around
Portraits of strangers
And off season discounts
Flash through the whiteness
Of the blank paper
Stories, poems, songs, sketches
Memoirs and diary entries
Epistolary, novels and sonnets
So much and too many
All in my eyes or just the paper’s itch

I wait, I wait
To understand the mystery,
Of body and mind
Sex and love
Siamese twins

Ciphers disdain these questions
Some ambiguities can’t be deciphered
By a mere itch
Blank paper is just as susceptible
As a crossroad