The Jig is Up

I kicked a cat–
Almost–
With the worn curve of my sneaker, 
Black and meandering past, whiskers slicing
My path, night-colored fur bringing an eclipse. 
It shrieks at the same time you do, yours with laughter, 
But I have my brows tangled. Am I doomed?

The sun dares to set and your cheek warms under the orange, 
Hands moving under the table like a pendulum, to me,
To you, and away. 

Am I even more doomed than 
I would have been? The plate has a chip in its shoulder,
Tea leaves gather at your lips’ corner,
Fog seeps into my ear and I worry about nothing again.

Threat of ruin feels like a burnt tongue, nerves sleeping
In a burning house 
Because they can’t control the black cat making laps outside their door.

Then you’re here again, 
Weaving through the jigsaw houses,
Beaming while you slump your way over, fishing out a laugh,
The sound’s trail leaves warmth all over.
And I know for certain
You’ll reach me

While the cat unravels, honey-brown in the light.

Amal Al Shamsi is a poet and fiction writer from Dubai, United Arab Emirates. She holds an MSc in Literature and Modernity (1900s-Present) from the University of Edinburgh and a BA in Literature and Creative Writing from NYU Abu Dhabi. Her writing explores gendered experiences in fantastical realms, from childhood to adulthood, immersed in her cultural background. Her major interest is in magical realism and its depictions of womanhood, the subject of her postgraduate research.

Artwork by Noor Althehli