Epilogue

I cannot remember what flooded today
and what drowned in it. The bell at 7:20
must have been the last, and everything
after that a mere epilogue;

the beginning has another name: the end
there is nothing in between, only the periphery,
but that too is easily forgotten, like the
aftertaste of coffee licking my tongue,

but loss is not the knife-flash of the camera
not something we only see but never remember.
it slips away secretly while I cling to it
for comfort, fully aware of its poison

I am the snake charmer now. I press the silvery casing
of my life tightly to my skin, and it slithers
round my neck, flexible as a curve, all this while
its venom waiting in the bite

that will be more than enough to
burn me up like the ant on which I’ve just spilled
my coffee.. That must truly be the aftertaste.
The submersion; the warm ache of a bath

I stare at the flame for so long
until my eyes feel like they’re burning. Warmth
takes the sweat-drenched shirt, it soon dries,
ready to be worn again. Ready for the next flood.