Posts Tagged ‘muse’





It’s like the absence

where the cat used to come

and rub against your leg


and you had some hope

there was real affection,

perhaps she even favored you,


you were, after all,

the one who fed her—

no wonder she nuzzled your shins—


but that was before you tried

to pick her up and rub

her belly. Eager fool.


It was days before the cat

let herself be seen again,

though you set out cream,


though you promised loudly

not to pick her up.

God, just to feel her


rub against your leg.

That would be enough, you

tell yourself, but you


and the cat both know you’ll try

to pick her up again, your hands

desperate as a blank page.

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