we want you, we do : fix this the second time

I woke up to discover a ferret wrapped around my belly. I closed my eyes against the world and focused on denying the tickle of warm fur. It didn’t really work. Little scratchy claws, moving with our breathing. It was too much. I gently picked him up and shifted him to the pillow, losing my dreaming in the process. Now I’m working and feel like I’m hours behind on my sleep. Exhaustion in the marrow of my bones. I want to crawl into my empty bed and fall into darkness. This must be what regret feels like. A heaviness in the centre of all the limbs, pulling you down into the pit of your belly.

It’s snowing in Calgary right now. Flakes the size of teacups. The hill next to the studio’s been closed and there’s talk of taking crazy carpets and sliding down the street. I wish I were there. Fairytale cold and wet. I could borrow mittens off Dean and get my boy in the head with a snowball. Giggling to glitter.

Snow here would be nice too. Looking out the window to a pale fluttering world. Frost on my window like I haven’t seen since I was a kid. Ferns etching themselves on the glass in crystal cold. I miss the cocaine dusting of snow blowing across the street ahead. I miss the light.

Our cities are so isolated from eachother in winter. In Vancouver we barely think of it, but in our own way, we’re just as snowed in trapped as the rest of the country. Our settlements spread out, practically one city to a province. Huge spreads of empty snowdeep land, dangerous to cross. The mountains will be almost impassable in maybe a month and the prairies only death for the small car. Like entropy overtaking Canada, everything slowing until it barely moves at all.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *