once you’ve lived
with a cat or two
any item in the periphery -
a towel, a purse, a sock
becomes a still creature,
silently watching

staring at the mirror,
despair raids her light and air

in the reflection,
blinded by her beauty,
the bright florescent light
etches furrows
traces the side of her nose
to her mouth

yesterday's shadow
creeps from behind
sends bitter ripples
down her face
a reminder
of the loneliness, she hides