Still I hear Rafe – his quizzical yowl – and I look to try to see him,
but he’s inside me.
I water all the houseplants I’ve neglected since Rafe’s death.
I’ve been in limbo, unable to move, or do, or even speak – yesterday,
especially. It’s dangerous for survivors, after. What do you do
with all the time you have again? What do you say to each other
after the one you cared for is gone?
