first attempt at story-of-my-life

I must have been in there when I

pawed my way out that first time—

blind, fluffy and flat-faced and

somehow still offered

sweet cream in exchange for the luxury

of stroking me

 

I cant quite count that, though,

as I sit here, now—

lap full of sharp hard bones and lean muscle—

because that was long before I knew that those belong

inside me

I’ve left the flap up and

lost it to the wilderness…

 

I’d love to claim that it was

During the mad dash to escape the snickering flames that

Pulled my first attempt at independence

Down to the charred, soggy butt

Of a rather funny joke

 

But I know it happened before that,

Because the cat was

Just a kitten then,

Breathing frightened ragged whimpers from

His flooded litter box

 

And I wasn’t even the one who

saved him

 

could I have lost it to her?

She rescued him, sure,

(she plunged back in to that third-floor tempest

and clutched him to her chest for the

rest of that hang-nailed night,)

but she had already

traded me

for an easier kind of mind-bending

 

no,

couldn’t be that—

I noticed the hair caught in the hinges before

I retracted my claws and

Showed her my soft underbelly

 

I know!

The red era—

The night when I saw how much I could slash to bits

With a single flick of the wrist

(hewasstitchedbackuplikeateddybear’ssplitseam,

tiny Xs marking the spot where

his blood

shot forth to spare mine)

 

no, no.

how unfair of me.

He would never have let it slip past him.

 

I rub the delicate arching spine,

The rumble so close it

seems like its rolling out from within

Where I used to feel it

 

Maybe I should inspect the moments when

Pleasure lulled my careful guard…

 

I once stroked strings that

Rang just right

Lapped up the perfect harmony

To my melody

 

I once chased

Pesky inhibitions into a

Hot spotlight and batted their battered carcasses there,

Applauded like a gladiator

 

I once taught myself the

Fluid science

Of sharing a shadow with

Another shaking body

 

And leapt, unfettered, from high to higher ledge

And licked all wounds with pride

And never

Never

Never

Squandered the gift of a long stretch of nighttime

 

I am still here—

Petting compulsively as I fret and he

Uncoils and stretches,

Ready to empty my lap again and take with him

My skeleton

Sinews

Motor…

Maybe he is gone for good, this time,

Or maybe

He’ll climb back in if I just

Tick one off and

Purr in honor of the eight that remain.

-asia