Page 206 - Dark Matter Women Witnessing

Lise Weil

Just This*

Where are you now my darling? My sweet girl. Ma cocotte. I don't stop listening for you,

sniffing the air for your smell, seeing you out of the corner of my eye. Feeling your fur

with my fingers.

Your exquisite fur, white grey taupe black. Tes poils, which I find everywhere now, not

just on couch and chairs and blanket but in my drawers and closets, white filigree lacing

through sweaters and coats. My hair sheds too only it's longer less fine. Our curly white

hairs are everywhere in this apartment, I can't brush yours away.

You're nowhere, and everywhere. The

flash of white that never appears though

I'm always seeing it, wherever you used to

lay yourself down. You always were

everywhere, here, in these rooms, I took

you in through senses I didn't even know I

had. That’s why I still feel you still smell

you still hear you. I don’t stop listening for

you.

All day long I keep telling myself no: that

isn't you rustling papers in the corner, that

can't be you at the window wanting to be

let in, no that isn't the soft thud of you

landing as you dismount from the chair in

my study.