cygnoir.net

cygnoir.net

and you my cat

and you my cat who cries at nothing who leaps over my head and steps on my breasts to chase the moth i intentionally let in for your amusement you the protector of the beige grosgrain ribbon you the enemy of any plant i might even consider bringing into this tiny room you are not my cat at all are you you are some unidentifiable unnamed unscientifically-named wraith of confusion always needing to be let into the closet which holds your interest for less than the time it takes me to blearily pull open the door

yet when i smell your fur when i pull you into my red bitten arms and when i hold you i can feel the seven years between us the humidity in alabama and my tears that you licked away when i could only hold despair i hold you now and think

how good to know you my cat how good to depend on your existence and how good to share my shower-dripped legs with your figure-eight steps each morning how good to see you asleep so precariously in sunlight how good to feel your small form curled against the curve of my belly when i cannot sleep because of the things i know awaiting me in my head how good to know there is something so simple in the world as the slow close of your eyes when i pet just the right spot

and you my cat sent from an alien land to remind me that i must feed and water something other than myself that i am not wrong or mistaken in the sheer touch of fingertips to eartips and that we two have moments past and moments yet to go

← An IndieWeb Webring πŸ•ΈπŸ’ β†’

I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.

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