Piker Press — Weekly Journal of Arts and Literature
April 27, 2026

Too Late Now

"...the blue pitter-patter of your dejected footsteps..."

I remember you'd asked me once
What you meant to me...
I remember a plethora of replies
Choking my unprepared sense
And the blue pitter-patter of
your dejected footsteps

Yes, the world has moved on hence
But smoking here
by the brown waste bin
I see your face in a sea
Of dead cigarette stubs.

Suddenly I know.
The last drag of a cigarette end
The one that we want to last.
The one we hold on to...
Teeth clenched, jaws sucked in
Knowing that the lights
will soon be out...

That's what you are to me...
The final drag of euphoria
In a journey from fire to ashes

Stashing the flameless butt, I find
The best replies are always ill- timed...






Article © Ananya Chatterjee. All rights reserved.
Published in the April 4, 2016 issue .
Image(s) are public domain.
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