borrowed from Latin abscessus:

“withdrawal, departure”
Tufted black and white cat
used to stalk the hydrangeas.
Together we’d shouldered winter
in tandem, quarrying the concrete walls
of the apartment building 
like two wary neighbors. 
We shared a suspicious caution,
two cracked teeth that have plagued us both
for months. I’d occasionally share
passing glances, my bologna,
until it disappeared at random–
I couldn’t tell you when.
I’m all too good at ignoring 
what’s in front of me;
avoiding dentists, the phone that rings,
a certain tightening in my lungs.
The rottenness sours my mouth
in that old familiar way.