My kitten’s eyes are nothing like the sun,
although her gaze burns hot with malcontent
unless her lunch is served on time at one
with crunchy biscuits as a supplement.
If thwarted, tail lashed from side to side
expresses words a kitten cannot speak.
She rubs against my face when satisfied,
anointing me with fishy breath that reeks.
I love to hear her purr, yet well I know
how loud it sounds beside my head at night.
She doesn’t understand that people go
to sleep, instead of cuddle, play, or fight.
And yet, when she is calm and curled in bed,
I never wish I’d got a dog instead.
C.L. Holland is a British speculative fiction writer and occasional poet.
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