Archive for September, 2013

Scramble

September 28, 2013

Scramble

Scramble. You gotta leave. Scramble. Not this place, that one over there. I forgot to tell you: don’t get too comfortable. This won’t last long. It is a 2 week stay, maybe 12 days. The next one—just try it. It could last 3 or 4 months, maybe more. When you begin to feel at home, scramble again. You gotta go, even if you’re not ready. Move on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Creative Grief

September 25, 2013

Your paw. Your right front paw. You used to stretch it to greet me when I came back home. Your green eyes smiled. I’d pick you up and everything was fine. Remembering these moments helps me cope with the loss of you.

Love

September 25, 2013

Love

I love you. I love you more because it’s a secret. It’s not supposed to happen. When I look at you and others are around us, I act like I am not interested. You’re nothing to me, I want to tell them. But inside I’m jealous. I see you with her and I want you all to myself. My eyes follow you and that woman. I run to the window and watch you leave together. I smile such a phony smile as I wave to you. Later I stand close to you when no one’s looking.

Rival

September 23, 2013

Rival

I want to see how you act with her, my rival. I want to know if you are happier with her than with me. If I ask you, you won’t tell me with words. But I need to know. I’ll watch your gestures and read them as if they were a book. We have had so much pleasure together. We enjoyed being in each other’s company. I don’t want you to like her better. Being without you or playing the other one is not for me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Your Place in the Sun

September 18, 2013

Your Place in the Sun

An orange cat walked by the house this morning, but it wasn’t you. You are in Heaven, newly arrived. During your life here, I’d open the door for you in the afternoon. Nobody knew. It was our secret. The grass in the backyard with the sun shining on it was your great temptation. Afterwards you’d put your body on the concrete. It caressed you and you smiled. Now your eyes are closed forever, but you are still a Prince Cat.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Survivor

September 9, 2013

Survivor 

I am here. You are not. I miss you. I am not sure that you know that. Where are you? Where do souls go after the body dies and becomes ashes? Your spirit is with me. I felt it this morning when your little face seemed to be pressed against mine. It was so real, as if we were still living in the old days.

 

Wanted

September 5, 2013

Wanted

You looked at me. Please, please, your eyes said. You wanted to be with me badly. I turned my face away from you and left. I couldn’t do it—not then. I stopped on the street. What if I turn back right now, I thought. I almost did and felt bad that I couldn’t. You are such a temptation. I will not deny our pleasure again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Precious

September 3, 2013

Precious

So few. We have so few minutes together now—only 15 at most. We try to make the best of them. We leap at the chance to have them. We don’t want them out of our lives. That time makes us feel alive, even if they are rare. They’re ours, totally ours.