baby tonight I'm trying to watch television and outside the moon seems to have stopped breathing—a pool of flat radiance and the only image in my mind is that of the black and white Siamese kitty cat tattooed on the small of y our back because I hardly understood the true nature of cats until you silently tiptoed into my life and I entered you with the smoothness of hot knife through butter and smoldering like the tip of a syringe and because the memory of your skin still haunts me burning more savagely than this moon so boring the television appears to hum with more life and baby I am sorry I had met with apathy the concern for your real true Siamese kitty cat because I am in a state of consciousness that receives neither the eleven o'clock news nor the lunar manifestations of truth and love and whatever strange music it is hanging outside these unreal windows and baby I hope you are not thinking it as the cat you keep between your legs I think about all the time with an Egyptian's impious devotion to bash and baby I hope you are still alive and you too are watching television on this very moment with only the real virtue of moonlight more beautiful than death and imagining what might have happened had you come over to let the feline tattoo curl up cozily on my bed tonight baby now I begin to understand the true nature of absence and hunger in the sudden keening of a cat. (I found this poem in the book, One Hundred Love Poems by Gemino Abad and Alfred Yuson)
She knew it was the last time, her only chance. She knew she
had to do it. She had done enough foolishness. She did not want to do worse. It
had to end.
She composed herself, framed the right words. She heaved a
deep breathe. She sat still and stared at that man across the room.
That man. Many asked her why him. He was not the type that
settles down. He may not be even capable of any emotional attachment. Unfortunately,
it was him. God knows the extent of things he can do for this man.
“Hey!” She waved at him and smiled. Tears brewed in her
eyes. She could hardly breathe. She faked a laugh and cleared her throat. She
did not know where to start. She was aware that he knows how she feels for him.
Her heart throbbed heavily. Her head started spinning. She felt dizzy. What to
She only needed to know one thing. “What did you feel about
everything?” As if losing all her energy, she sank into the couch. She bit her
lower lip and sighed silently as she waited for him to talk.
“Nothing. I’m used to such attention,” he said with his deep
She wanted to run away, shout, curse, and weep. She felt her
confidence and self-value shrank below ground zero. She closed her eyes. She
anticipated for that response, but it still struck and cut her heart deep.
She was not sad. She was just disappointed. “He could have
at least framed the words properly,” she said to herself silently. Then, she covered
her face with a trilby and silently wished to die.