In the Next Life

I’ll be a cat. With nine lives, pouring words instead of milk, dancing in the moonlight, sipping margaritas as people endlessly judge and narrate.

In my next life I will be a wolf, dreaming of cats and words and eating trees the size of oceans, playing with color in the moonlight. Or in the next I’ll just be a woman again, in a mask playing solitaire with your ghost, letting go of negativity like worlds, like tornadoes, like energy, like life, like loss.

I will sing operas and listen silently to oceans caving in, like leaves among the sand.

In the next I’ll plan a picnic, for me and wolves and cats sipping margaritas, celebrating life,and all the times people have said negative things, it only made me stronger, bathing in the moonlight.

Eva Tortora