To My Love
out the window onto the patio, I remember all the meals we had there;
all the seasons we enjoyed. Then living with the warmth and the cold,
then nothing but cold whether we were within or without. The without
grew and grew.
other day, I saw someone's cat sitting in the sun, in the middle of
the patio table. The way she moved, turning her head back and forth,
stretched, and shrugged, all reminded me of you. Even the elongated
way of shifting until she was sure she'd created the best position for
later, something on the fence caught my eye. The cat. She was hanging,
like all the stuffing had come out of her, fence point lodged in her
felt the most awful sense of dread. How could she stand it?
day, each time I passed the window, I'd see her in the same position.
I felt sick. I paced back and forth, chewing my nails, as I used to
do in waiting for you, until I learned better.
to do? Poke it and see if it roused? Creep close and clap my hands?
or not, sleep visited me little. I walked back and forth to the window
even though I could see nothing through the dark. I looked anyway. Like
I used to search for you. I could do nothing and the body would rot
on my fence. The idea made my stomach lurch and my skin crawl.
an almost non-related thought surfaced: She was not my responsibility,
but the fence was. You used to speak thoughts like these. Thoughts that
circled around everything, especially around me.
you leave your circles behind for me to fall into?