This came about as a result of several long afternoon walks around the Galle fort area. Faces are fascinating, aren’t they? Just like windows and doors and cracks and grout and broken glass!

Here I tried a different way to present the text of the poem – do let me know what you think about it! 

Pareidolia

I look for pl-f-aces large enough to enter,
to be 'consumed' by walls. 
(Though I don't like how that word sounds -
too economics-ical)
Inhaled, chewed, grounded,
mashed and masticated. 

we share this -
our minds addicts
for tales. We are not built for reason, no
, not innately, though it is something we can learn.
like lying or looting or
like religion. 
(No, this is not a category.)

A building is held together
by generations of gossip
and a lot of silence. 
That's one of the surprises in life -
how large chunks of it are ... silent. 

No one warns you about the desperation of
the ear,
how far it crawls to gather
what isn't directed at it.