Two weeks in Italy

Sunday, June 7th

Aidan
The dog looks at you; the cat has already decided.
The dog waits for autumn to leave the window; it never does.
The dog and cat endure the apartment's fever dream; only the plants remain sane.
The dog knows the rent is due; the cat has already accepted this.
The dog wears a star; the cat wears the apartment's disappointment.
She checks her phone; the floor remembers when people looked at each other.
The black cat judges her phone; the phone judges back.
The cat watches her scroll; the phone will never love her back, but it tries.
The cat judges her screen; the dog waits for permission to care.
The dog watches the phone; the phone ignores the dog; both are correct.
Mich
The cat abandons you; the dog remains, stupidly faithful, forever.
The dog waits for permission; the cat has already decided.
Aidan
She holds the candle; the cat holds the judgment.
One man smiles at the camera; the other has already accepted what the animals know.
One smiles; one does not—the ivy decides who was right.