Nocturnal Artist

My room was a time capsule.
I invited the cat in,
and latched that antique door.
Two loves sat on the bed,
one with dilated green eyes,
and one with a guitar in hands.
They said we would be cast through space,
scaling the stars
in a dizzying fashion.
The room was still.
Preserved on the 28th.
I questioned
the position
of every object.
The medicine on the floor,
the sideways bottle,
the crooked books on the shelf.
I couldn't imagine
a shifting speck
of dirt,
or drinking the rest of my coffee.
We were just three humans and a cat, surrounded by walls and statues.