The animal you chose
to keep in that ring
with the secret compartment
is wobbly with hunger.
You haven’t fed her for years.
You forgot her. You let her starve,
and now she’s bone and hide.
It’s time to open the vein
in your palm and let her drink
while you cradle her and tell her
of your forgotten love of her fur
and her wide yellow eyes, but she perishes
before you have finished,
and you are left agog with the shame
of having chosen and then
abandoned her.
Listing and bouncing from wall to wall
as you carry her out to the yard
you walk directly to a tree
and, laying her carefully beside you,
you begin to dig the hole
for her body. You dig deeply
and the pile of earth rises beside you
until it blocks the stars,
which do not reappear
even after you’ve stepped away
from the mound.
She was so small
when she died. Why this grave
needs to be so deep
is something you’ll think about
for a long time.
Dark Matter 