4.

checked the back door.
checked the front.
dead
bolt.

this is the mantra:
namaste namaste namaste namaste.

chin lift throat catch,
the friendliness of silence.

fingers trickle, lung heavy,
gargantuan cats all of them black
sifting into a realm i call bedroom.
where i was is not where i am.

the wintry brevity.
the slowly turning wheels
of Pharoah's army. behind me
a feline snickers and moses splits a sea.

i recognize you God, there in
the bathroom mirror.