Death comes

Verrà la morte e avrà i tuoi occhi
Cesare Pavese

Death comes

Does she look for green eyes
when she stares into the middle distance,
pupils round and black,
in the shadows where she lies?

Will they gaze back, unblinking,
with feline detachment,
or with a promise of companionship?

I watch with her, the ticking hours,
knowing only that when she looks at me,
I am not what she is waiting for.

Verrà la morte,
and she will have cat’s eyes.

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