CW: Pet Death

In hindsight I know that the white kitten

will be dead this time tomorrow &

that you’ll be holding me while I cry

about it & then suddenly about my parents,

who will be dead sometime, too.

Someday I’ll hang the picture I just took

of you cradling her fragile body

& smiling, laughing, actually, at the first

& last time we got to hear her purr.

I know that you’ll learn that why

my life is so beautiful to guests

is guilt & that I cannot stop cleaning

or wishing for quiet, cluttered surfaces.

Here on my kitchen floor while we kiss to Cat Stevens

& I don’t know that the kitten will be dead tomorrow

I notice that I am more in love with you

than I realized & I am fucking panicked.

Everything will make me panic. I promise.

But I also promise I’ll try to let you clean, too,

I’ll try to look back: you kissed me on the kitchen floor

& the next day I pressed my face

into that sweet ghost kitten’s fur & thanked her

for a little of her time & it was worth it.

It was snowing when you came over.

I was not ready to be the adult at the vet’s office

who decided to take a life this cold

Spring without any kind of order. This weeping.

This hush between our bodies where in hindsight I saw a rule:

this is the way that you are, messy & good,

cradling bits of me gently, laughing.