A trail of blood trickles from
my dear cat's nose
and down her neck;

part of my shirt is damp,
thick with crimson touch because
she nuzzled deep into my chest

I wipe the blood off
and begin to feel
it pour from my own
nose like a leaky faucet

I get up and go to the sink
and clean my face, and I look
to the clock on the wall
and realize I'm late for bed

I got work in the morning,
and if I don't make my usual
rounds, I'm as good as dead

My dear cat follows me
back to the bedroom, where
there is no television, no
shelf filled with books, and
no one to hold me close
and tell me everything is
going to be fine

I shrug, kick off my slippers,
switch off the light
and jump into bed;

my cat soon follows.

As I begin to pet her
I start to feel another warm
body in her mouth;

she purrs, and nuzzles,
and drops something
onto my head.

It hurts;
I yowl.

But I'm too exhausted to turn on the light.

It could be another lifeless rat.

Tonight,
instead,--

I imagine it to be
a  full, healthy heart my dear
cat was kind of enough
to bring back from the dead.