Cat Says He'll Be Here Tomorrow / by Rebecca Tillett

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Cat says he’ll be here tomorrow.
I think it’s in his stripes
and spots around his eyes
all blinking in unison like spies.

I knew we weren’t alone.
You yanked my legs open: romance
I knew we weren’t alone.
Cat, the blaring tv, the phone.

News says little girl was raped,
Cat says he’ll be here tomorrow.
Phone says “baby, come home.”
I knew we weren’t alone.

You yanked my legs open anyway,
pulled my panties to the side,
only noticing for a minute –
the contrast of pink to white.

Sun spilled in through the window
warmed 9 squares of carpet.
You pushed & pulled & fucked: left sticky stains.
I kept reaching for 9 squares in vain.

Cat says he’ll be here tomorrow.
Spots around his eyes all blinking in unison.
Me, left emptied and smashed.
You mumbled “good fuck” and crashed.

I knew we weren’t alone,
spinning the barrel of your shotgun.
I knew we weren’t alone.
Phone says “baby, please come home.”

Cat says he’ll be here tomorrow.
I think it’s in his stripes
and spots around his eyes.
Cat needs new disguise.