By Chad Hollis
Death is a small dark faced woman
she has begun to introduce herself to me
it began with kittens too weak to survive
I bought death for the baby
she didn’t want
couldn’t keep
She’s shown her face to me
reflected on the shiny scalps
of chemotherapy owned by
women I love whose bodies turned on them
She’s danced with friends
entranced with needles and powders
waltzing them to her doorway
some have gone through
She’s there in every grey hair
in my dogs muzzle and in my girlfriend’s hair
Yet I’ve seen her face slapped
by the chubby perfectly formed hand
of a baby brought into this world
deliberately and with love
I’ve seen her chased off by those who
have crawled away from the doorway and healed
I’ve chosen to fight her
by not ignoring her instead
I dance with her
peek in her door
and turn away laughing
I know eventually she’ll seduce me
She is not to be denied
and when the time comes I will embrace her
but until then
I’ll enjoy her frustrated face
as I continue to kiss her on the nose
and dance away
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