The box where I put us spilled open
the cat knocked it off the shelf
mischievous beast, meddlesome Bast
I think she’s tired of her protective ways
longing for ancient days of war-torn destruction
she seeks to make a battleground of my heart, for revenge
Yesterday, Bast asked me to pray to her
for protection, she said.
Politely, I declined
Now I glance up to find her watching me
she sits on the shelf where I’d hidden us away
casually licking her paws, feigning nonchalance
but I see her eyes gleam
they laugh as she watches my fingers
scramble to collect piece after piece of us
shattered and whole, they slip through cracks
in floorboards before I can retrieve them
forever lost to dust & fate
& the Will of the Gods
I cut my finger on your face,
it starts to bleed & I look up
Bast stops licking her paw
she’s still staring, and I can hear her eyes whisper
‘Now will you pray?’