She wraps herself within her own…self-importance.

Whims and cares dangled on a shredded chair.

Kittens have lasted for centuries on timeless style.

I could sit and watch for hours.

All the while she lay unwearied in her bed.

Bathing, fully dressed in streams of the sun.

As time saunters by, immersed by a harvest moon’s blossom.


There are days when her indifference to touch cloud all adoration.

I denounce myself for the humiliation.

But lost in the need for approval…

Kitten begins bathing…again.