Old wooden stairs leading to the attic.
The cave of an inhabitant.
Small white and packed in bags.
i have arrived to my destination right when he departs.
Departing to point B.
Yellow light switched off to give presence to the illuminated red candle dancing in light waves across the room.
Bellow us the bed, old.
Above of the sky.
A white window open above us letting in spring night.
No stars, water starts to emerge from the window glass.
Titanic i say.
Closing eyes to the CD on replay.
Black and white cats running in between my legs.
the gentle purr.
the long sleep.
the early awakening of the sun.
Children screaming outside.
The guitar tunes in my ear from last night.
The warmth of the grill on the bed sheets.
I toss around the bed, gracing your long gone movement.
The bed remains in tumbles of cloth.
I disappear before seeing you leave.
the room is empty.
a piece of me lies on the bed where you slept to depart.
text by: the female zoo
