I will wait for the one who feels like baking sugar cookies
For the one that smells like climbing trees
For the one that looks like a morning after sleeping in a hotel
For the one that sounds like smiling before a roller coaster takes off
For the one that tastes like swimming way after the sun has gone down
I will wait.

I want to un-know
So I don't hurt.
It's selfish, but
the knowledge brings me
much pain.

Pretend it didn't happen.
Act as if she is crazy
    for remembering: for being hurt.

Then act like her hurt
    has no basis in reality.

Call her crazy.  Emotional.
    Dismiss her humanity.
    Dismiss her.

Then, treat her with disrespect.
    When she objects,
    remind her she is
    too emotional, crazy,
    that her memory is flawed.
    She is less.

When you want something,
    rescind all this,
    remember tenderness and care.
    Flip again if anyone notices.

Keep her questioning:
    then she will stay silent.

And one cold fall day
The cats come out to play
As the cold wind whips
The cats purr and lick
Roaming through the narrow streets
Meowing cats black and sleek
On top of still cars
Content and undisturbed so far
Running and jumping and whipping their tails
Climbing rails and making trails
A cold breeze nips their noses
As they sniff around for roses
But all that's in the air
Is a cold fall breeze bare
Bitter and freezing
But the cats continue scheming
Unaware of their effect in large numbers
They run out of the way of motors
On that cold fall day
That the cats come out to play