Feline comfort
I weave eights
in between your corduroy legs
and nudge my cheeks against your ankles,
burry tongue poking,
and blink open-faced at the vertical distance,
calculating spring-base
versus pounce-height in twitches
or claw upwards
to the ultimate spot of heartbeat cushion
to rest after pawing you down
once, twice: a nonchalant coda –
dismissive this-is-itness -
and settle into the rise and fall
of warm, slinky sleep