Three cats -- Rumkin, Mist, and Flop Ear -- followed Jenny along the rocky shore, dancing away from the incoming tide."This will make a good soup," said Jenny, dropping a glistening clump of sea moss ... [+]
It started with your betrayalyour pleas for my forgiveness.You expected hell firebut your eyes metan uncomprehending stare,with frosty blocks of syllables,I'm going to bed now.Don't forget to feed the cat,and we lay not touchingstiff on a glacial sheet.So it continues, our homeno longer refuge but a housereflecting the raw chill of winter,the black ice of the pondthe shards hanging from our roof,You beg me to speak to you,properly, talk it through.I shake my head, numb.You coax me with yellow rosesfor devotion. I put them in waterfor their sake, not yours.You're an iceberg, you saybut my feeli