Thursday, September 20, 2007

Purrbag

I lay my ear against your rumble
and don't care about the fleas
crawling into my hair.
Let me polish you till you shine.

Come to me crying
with hands full of hooks
looking for your lost meal -
insist you’re never fed.

Your hunger whines
on the turbine of empty,
jewel of coal.

Lay your head next to mine -
we share a hollow of warmth
where your fur has gathered
the sun’s glow.

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