Admission Room

My shoes, the hem of my coat, the warp and weft of my shawl went limp — like rennet, like tripe — under the fierce downpour of rain, in the street. My shoulders, my legs have grown heavy. I give my shawl and coat and shoes to the flood’s current. I come faster — stark naked — toward your arms. Will you admit into your arms your poor, drenched cat? ...