Timespan

Even this shall pass.
The ice –cubes forming in your heart
When winter winds whisper his name.

Your pulse gagged and kicking inside your throat
And you struggle to stave off
Prying eyes in the office elevator.
This too, shall pass.

His face mocks you from the covers
Of every Mills and Boons on the bookshelf
And no place for you in the story
Even this shall pass.
You smile a little more brightly
Your laugh is a trifle loud
The wine, bitter-sweet, makes you dizzy
And tears wet your face in the dark.

Yet sunset follows sunset
And dreamless nights
Will slay the lurking dragons
All in good time.

Even this shall pass.

Ask me.
I’ll tell you a first-hand story
With names and dates and faces
Animation, lights and special effects.

Ask me.
Even this excruciating extract of eternity
This too, shall pass –

Except, perhaps,
For the print of his fingers
On the wall-paper of your mind.





Frank Krishner, February 1994, Patna, Bihar.