NINTH LIFE
 
journal
new issue
- by menka shivdasani
total read - 2145
   

When it is time
to lay the papers down,
there will be no warnings,
no bells, no clanging in the corridors.
Your breath will leave,
like a cockroach stealing out at night.

And should it be long-drawn instead,
you may watch them crawl out through the door,
an army of ant-breaths carefully balancing
the sugar crystal of your life.

In your antiseptic chamber, wait,
grit your teeth at the IV drip,
watch the serum fall.
Let the pallid taste of sleep slide on your gums
and the drug-cloud on the eyelid dribble in.

Try to ignore that spoilsport pulse
with its throbbing, twanging din
against your bone.

In this quiet room,
not a cockroach is in sight,
nor a single ant
biding its time in the dark.

 
 
was published in November 2018
 
 
categories
 
Fiction
    Flash Fiction
    Short Story
Non-Fiction
    Essay
    Interview
    Narrative
Poetry
 
 
 
you may also like
 
JUST WANTED
Just wanted to say? I ?. You interrupted me with a ...
 
NIMBUS
A sky marked by change alternation or pure ...
 
MIGRANT WORKER
On a plane at Doha airport I?m clueless, a tense voyager, ...
 
 
top articles in Poetry
 
  ABSENCE IS A CIRCLE
the small bits of brick & plaster laughing in the room / above / us / become a dance in deep cold / & the gaps in our play as evening falls into darkness / deep with black
 
 
bengal lights © 2017