This Time…


There were no snakes in my sleep.
Nor, the hill bandits coming together
To rob me of everything.


Into the darkening,
There remained a hostile world
Of other sorts.


Rooted to this vision.
You and me watched –
My slow demise.


Until, after,
This scene had faded:
A clarity developed.


Who can tell?
One day.
Some day.


At random – I might die
In my sleep.
And before I am assigned.


To the flames…
You might hold me back,
To moisten my lips with your kiss.


Transfixed in the newness
That I am no more –
How will you be?





Geeta Chhabra


From the book: Smash My Glass by Geeta Chhabra.

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