gato

 

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Feline logic dictates that you must

Leave white fur on my black sweaters

Upend defenceless house plants just for spite

Find my can of tuna on the kitchen counter

Fling cat litter helter skelter

Yet curl up by my side, yawn and sleep the sleep of innocents

enfance

 

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Squinting in the sun

your hand lifts to shield your pale blue eyes.

You smile, tentative at first, then stretches wide.

Freckles sprinkle across your upturned nose.

Your laugh: a silvery chime that speaks of endless summer days, picnics and popsicles.

carrière

 

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Quarry

It was the first time

and it wouldn’t be the last

I hesitate

look back and consider

Should I return your volley

pretend to be flattered
blush and smile

act out the age old dance

a white ring untouched by sun on your left hand

stick figure art and grocery lists trail from your case

breakfast eggs a tell-tale blot

on your well-pressed shirt

 

You scan the room as I look away

senses keen for tick of biological clocks raging pheromones

maybe if you find

another she will want to play

Opening Line