This Poisonous Day

The cat could care less
that I’m distressed
by her refusal
of all offered food.

She just keeps looking away
after a single sniff
as if I’m poisonous
and have transferred that
to the food itself. Disdain
for my concern evident
on the face and tail. 

When ten minutes later
she’s cuddling up on the couch
next to me, I don’t know
what to think. Have I healed
myself, become safe — or is this
an attempt at mollifying me
so I will relax as she plots
her escape?

I’d tell you
time will tell, but I’m not sure
how much time there is,
in fact.  Everything feels
ruptured, and I don’t know
how long I have, how long
the cat has; how long
this day, this poisonous day,
will drag on.