irretrievable by J Mari

it’s close to
midnight and
i come in
as quietly as i can

try to not

stumble against the
furniture
that very soon

surrounds me like
nonchalant
nightmare rocks.

the cat is large
and motionless
on the floor

but it’s neither stiffness
nor bastard bloating of
death.

i look
inside my mother’s room:

under the comforter that
looks like a corpse
strewn on the bed

almost imperceptibly a
very small
and frail body breathes.

It was a night of
quietly howling skies
and Estellas and
the occasional shot of Jack

and music not
very often heard

and a body on the
stool next to mine
smile like a blue spider stir.

we talked about
possible contentment
and the end of things, how
we’re

pinned down like dead butterflies.

i watched her hands move like small birds perched on the night.

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Photo: Kerttu