she's not
i thought
but maybe tonight
under an unpretentious light
she might
but then
another cat purred
and i forgot
to lick
I've been told to correct my crappy first editions and get over it. So the poem should have read...
she's not
i thought
although maybe tonight
under an unpretentious light
she might
but then
another cat purred
and i forgot
to lick
grooming
She kept her fugues
carefully polished
on her vanity and wept
at the reflected possibilities
glimpsed through veils
of sleight isolation
mesmerized
by the gleaming eyes
that beckoned with the suggested
amazement of annunciation
just beyond the window glass,
she shrugged off the silver cloth
complexities of her habits
that draped the illusion
of her confusion.
and shedding her need
she stepped from the circle
of its formless
wilted robes and turned
face to her fate.