Silky fur I cannot touch and doe eyes. What is inside
them? Curiosity? Perhaps. Fear? Why
must you always run? I extend a gentle hand
toward your whiskers. You approach. You
sniff. I go to scratch behind your ears--
too much, too fast. Off you go. Wild animals
are less skittish than you. I long to hold
you without whimpers of protest, tranquil
as when you lay in my sister’s bed. You look
so beautiful when you sleep. I admire
from a distance. You’re happier that way.
Apr 19, 2020
Apr 19, 2020 at 8:33 PM UTC
Silky fur I cannot touch and doe eyes. What is inside
them? Curiosity? Perhaps. Fear? Why
must you always run? I extend a gentle hand
toward your whiskers. You approach. You
sniff. I go to scratch behind your ears--
too much, too fast. Off you go. Wild animals
are less skittish than you. I long to hold
you without whimpers of protest, tranquil
as when you lay in my sister’s bed. You look
so beautiful when you sleep. I admire
from a distance. You’re happier that way.