yesterdays are like spilt milk or whipped cream, they can not be undone. all that i’ve been ferries me to this moment, where i can choose still where to go, who to be. the past matters, but it’s not everything.

thoughts that undrown me: all my neighbors sleeping in their beds, soaking in their tubs, eating, kissing, dreaming in their houses, on this very block, at this moment; people driving by in their cars, with anticipation, with dread, with distraction; the whole city turning on their lights, pouring cereal into their bowls, walking, dancing, sitting by their windows. all of us. how big we are; how small we are. going about our days in our singular fashion, surviving. trying to make something out of our lives. unknowingly. unknowably.

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we lost White Kitty on New Year’s Day.

This house has lost an inhabitant.
Insistently empty spaces where
fuzzy paws and pink nose
Should be.

life went on after White Kitty left us. how exactly, i don’t quite comprehend; but it did, because it does. just as life did when Mom died. just as when Black Kitty died.

i eventually went back into the kitchen to concoct meals that were not for him, the weight of the kale and psyllium and turkey and eggshell powder that nursed him through his last year on my shoulders. even kale eventually made it back to our table. if we could stop time for a little while after a loss that cleaves our world, would we ever be brave enough to start it again?