A long, slim ball of English cream
curls up against the velvety crimson stairs,
like an entity of white against maroon.
His ears perk up as I amble closer,
he watches me with watery brown eyes
as I make my way towards him.
He shifts,
igniting a flurry of his fur that winds up
and falls elegantly like grace itself.
He moves with an aura of nobility,
gallantly walking over to where I sit,
and sits on top of me.
Posted in response to the challenge Spring '24: Writing Contest.
I’m sorry that I wasn’t the rings to your Saturn,
because Saturn had cracked into two;
I’m sorry that I slipped salt into your sugar,
yet your sugar was bitter, I cried too.
I’m sorry that you never learned to care,
warmth,
pumpkin spice lattes
hot, spice-soaked coffee drizzled with a splash of cinnamon
coated with half-melted whipped cream, nestled by the delicate fire,
comfort,
your favorite cardigan
Give me a reason
for walking away,
was I too shallow
when you wanted a deep abyss?
Give me a reason
for losing faith,
was I too dreamy
when you wanted to be awake?
Give me a reason
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