Promises

Dusk hangs heavy

like swarms of mosquitoes

over juandiced street-lamps

Familial cicadas 

at meal times

had died down 

to leave the aftermath 

chores for me

Night gnaws 

at the door

They gather

their icy palms

over the blue charcoal flames

I peered 

squinted

run water and my numb fingers

over stainless steel plates

to see it shine

devoid of stubborn seeds

of sun dried chillies

or an obstinate grain of rice

Pins and needles

my frozen limbs

will be woken up

when he 

with his metal hooks

disguised 

dangles promises

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