The Mourning Times

Stapled Cats

I showered with her, and she didn't like it

Fur plastered to wet body, shivering,

Seeking comfort in my legs

Pitiful mewls echo in the bathroom

Soon, she'll be asleep

Splayed out on the table, she looks small

I smell her fur, the shampoo I'd just bought

One incision, then two, like strings of garnet

Straight down her center

I peel her skin open delicately,

like how spring whispers for the buds to awaken

heartbeats, breathing, squirming intestines

signs of life, one that I'd heard beside me at night

I can work because the feel of her isn't foreign

many hours, my fingers had roamed her body

sitting quietly in my lap as I read

Let me replace your mortality

Fill you with cotton and with love

Stay with me, my little one,

Forever