Little bia bia

Shit!

This basement is disgusting

and she’s down here somewhere.

“I think she got outside,” he says.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I say.

Running up the stairs,

two steps at a time,

Panting,

sweating,

I think I might throw up.

But I don’t.

I keep looking

for the black cat

in the black night.

Where is he?

Where is she?

Why isn’t he helping me find her?

Is she in the street?

Is she in the bushes?

Is she underneath the car?

No.

Back down the stairs

to find him

baby-talking a hole in the wall.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“She’s in here.”

She’s in there.

Of course she is.

Finally,

her

vertical

yellow

eyes

meet my round baby blues.