last night.

Before last night.

As it rained a few nights before
(I still remember)
How with all perceivable dimensions
I slept in her arms.

She is the mistress of my hormones
And she tames the thing inside
My crumbling bones.

I have lived through her
All the naked flames :
Of burning nights
And burning skies
And burning lives.

I have felt in her
The exact euphoria and blankness
And the orgasm of limited and timeless
Grangfather clock chimes.

After last night.

She killed me last night.
After I touched her gently for the final time.

I am a curse now.
Invincible, invisible.
Like a rough wind in her hair,
Like a spider-web in mid-air.

Is she still the mistress of my hormones ?
Can she still tame the waking thing inside
Crumbling bones?

I mustn't care about all that now.
I have to be going for the kill now.

I must posses her,
And pointlessly ask her:
Why?

diptanjan sarma purkayastha