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.