Soft
there's a cat on my arm
she purrs, filling my limbs
with her side by side
love
little nose tickling
my wrist
they see me cry,
you know.
the four footed beings
who watch me fall apart.
it's sometimes good, I think
that they don't speak.
I don't want the pity
of things
with whiskers.
copyright FHW, 2011
