forcused

Curse Me to the Moon // Darcy

Loki sighed and fluttered his wings.  He had been captured and forcused to be sold as pet.  He ruffled his feathers and hooted softly.  It was three days until the next full moon.  He hoped he could get out before then.  He didn’t want to be sold as a pet though.  Damn this curse.

I don’t know which is worse
The Leaving, or
when you’d Gone

The silent packing
The way we made sure
not to brush shoulders, as
we passed in the hallway
Eyes forcused so hard on everything
except each other
Steeled to what was ahead
To what we thought we must do

The last night
Should we sleep back to back?
Turned away?
Clinging to the edge of our bed, or
one of us sprawled in the middle?
Sleepless
The other curled
uncomfortably
foreign
on the hard couch?

In the end, we didn’t sleep at all

In the morning
Your hand on the door
The way I helped load the car
Our car, now yours
You took one dog, I took the other
Our dog, now yours

It couldn’t be worse than all this
I thought
I thought: it will be better when it’s over

Making a clean break, as the All-So-Wise say
But then you were really
Gone.

All of it
The morning coffees
The evening walks with the dogs
The poisoned tongues
The ledger of wrongs

All of it

Gone

The house howled with the echo of your absence
The streets teamed with strangers who ducked their heads
Seemingly embarrassed by my obvious aloneness
My half-ness
My torn in two-ness
Jagged and raw

Ripped off

I don’t know which was worse
Either way

It was over

-Kim Beyer-Johnson

2

I swear to you…

“I shall catch you, 24601!" 

"Oh, Mr. Mayer…" 

"No no no, what am I doing.  I must keep forcusing!”

I swear to you…2

“Today’s Mr. Mayer was just as splendid as everyday.”

“Wasn’t he, 24601?" 

"Why 24601 always comes across my mind whenever I think of Mr. Mayor?”